Then and Now
by Renica Swavely
Summary: Hermione closed the space between them, sliding her hands out of his hold and up his arms to come together behind his head. He didn't stop her. She brought her face closer. She was only a hair away from him now. She could feel his breath against her skin. It set her on fire. "You're playing a dangerous game, Granger," he warned. "I'm not playing alone." DMHG PostWar/NextGeneration
1. Push

"I think helping defeat the Dark Lord and destroying Horcuxes beats passing your N.E.W.T.S. and riding in a little boat," Ron Weasley stated. He set down the bag he had carried down the steps at the Burrow and turned to face Hermione Granger. "I don't understand why you need to go back. We were already offered jobs at the Ministry."

"I want to graduate," Hermione insisted. She had to fight to keep her voice level. They had been having this conversation all summer. After all they had been through, she expected Ron to be supportive of her choice.

"Well I think it's great," Ginny Weasley smiled, as she threw her own duffle onto the floor. "Now I have someone to copy off of." Her smile widened as she watched Hermione's face change at the suggestion.

"It's a waste of time," Ron continued, ignoring his sister. Hermione kept herself from rolling her eyes long enough to turn away. She pretended to check the contents of her bag one last time to ensure she wasn't forgetting anything. "Harry and I start tomorrow at the Ministry for our Auror orientation. You should be there too, Hermione." She tuned him out.

Ron started the conversation the same way each time. He would tell her that she was better than Hogwarts, as if she didn't desire to gain more knowledge and expand her working knowledge of spells and charms. He would go on to tell her there wasn't a need because she had already secured a position at the Ministry. Kingsley Shacklebolt had personally offered a position alongside Harry and Ron after the war. She could tell though his offer was genuine, it was also to aid his cause in bringing the various members of the wizarding world back together under a united front. That unity was what had won him the position and it was the basis for his campaign. Hermione had chosen to pursue what she thought was right when she joined Harry in his fight. The war was over. Voldemort was dead. It was time for her to pursue her own cause.

Behind her, Ron was still going on. For a moment, she questioned her decision to call him her boyfriend. All through her schooling the relationship between them had been building, from the very first time he teased her to the passionate kiss they had shared in the Chamber of Secrets - all of it seemed to lead to the point when they became a couple, but now that it had happened she didn't feel any satisfaction. If anything, she felt sad, as if it was the ending of their story rather than the beginning.

"Mione?"

She looked up at Harry Potter, who had a amused expression on his face.

"Bye Harry." She straightened up to hug him goodbye. He embraced her back, giving her a squeeze.

Instinctively, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as he backed away. "Still can't convince you to join us?" he gestured to Ron, who had continued his rant at his sister. Ginny was clearly ignoring him, but Ron had never been the most preceptive of the Weasley clan.

"It's been the three of us for as long as I can remember," she started, "but now is a time of change. I need to do this by myself for myself."

Harry smiled. "I know."

Hermione found herself smiling back. Then as Ron raised the volume of his voice, her smile faded. "I wish Ron understood."

"He does," Harry stated, glancing over her to his best friend. "Ron just has his own way of expressing it." Hermione shook her head, closing up her bag. "Someone once said he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, if I remember."

This time her smile stayed. "Thanks, Harry." She gave him another hug. "I'll be looking forward to your letters. I want to hear how-."

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" Molly's roaring mother-tiger voice startled everyone in the room, causing them to freeze in their spots. The Weasley matron entered the living room and placed her hands on her hips. "What is that motor bike doing here?" She raised one hand to point out the window.

Hermione rose to her tip toes to see outside where Hagrid's flying motorcycle was parked on the grass. Harry hadn't mentioned that he had borrowed it for today's trip. He had used it to get back and forth a few times this summer. The extra room allowed for him to move some of his larger belongings to and from. He had never said, but she thought maybe he liked riding it up in the clouds so he could talk to Hedwig. He hadn't had the heart to shop for a new owl yet.

"Mum, we are taking Hermione and Gin to the train station and -."

"And nothing!" Molly interrupted him. "You think I forgot that stint you pulled in second year? It's out of the question."

"But Mum-."

"No." Molly stared Ron down.

"Fine." He grumbled under his breath, lowering his gaze.

"Guess we should be going," Harry crossed the room to hug Mrs. Weasley. His action instantly cut the tension in the room. "We'll be back later."

"Oh Harry," Molly pulled him into a tight hug, her cross face falling away immediately. "Yes, get back here for supper. It's your favorite." She turned to Ginny, pulling her youngest into a hug, then did the same with Hermione, and finally Ron. "Be careful," she told him, holding him by the chin. "You take care of them."

"Yes, Mum."

Harry and Ginny took her trunk, while Ron helped Hermione with hers. Hermione looked back at the Burrow as they left. Molly was waving at them from the doorway. It made her miss her own parents. Ron had promised to go with her to Australia to find them once the Death Eaters had all be identified and caught. Right now there was still a level of danger out there. She didn't want to bring them back to a different kind of danger.

"Ready?" Ron asked him, finally giving her a smile.

"Yes."

And with that, the four of them set out for Kings Cross Station.

* * *

Draco Malfoy walked through the corridors of the manor one last time. Each step he took echoed loudly. The cold marble and obsidian offered no encouragement as he passed. Unlike his prior years, there was no one to see him off. His mother wasn't present to hug him goodbye. The last few years he had shrugged her off, not wanting to appear weak in front of his father. Standing alone now, he wished more than anything that she was with him.

Narcissa Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy hadn't been charged after the Battle of Hogwarts and the conclusion of the Second War. They had been spared serving time in Azkaban prison. That pass had come with strings attached, as Draco had assumed it would. First, his parents were temporarily living under protection from the Ministry while Lucius testified against his fellow Death Eaters. The details he provided were what would grant him and Narcissa the freedom to come home in the coming months. Second, Draco had to return to Hogwarts and complete his education by earning high marks on his N.E.W.T.S. All three of them were expected to become upstanding citizens within the wizarding community to prove their loyalty to the new world order.

Voldemort was gone. That was the only difference to Draco. The world was still broken. The Death Eaters were still out there along with some of his other followers. His life wasn't safe. His mother's life wasn't safe, especially after she lied to the Dark Lord about Harry Potter. Draco cursed the Boy Who Lived. Narcissa didn't owe it to Potter to save him. When Draco had brought that to her attention, she had just shaken her head and hugged him. He still didn't understand.

He entered the foyer, where his trunk was sitting by the doorway. The house felt lifeless, as if it had been forgotten. It echoed how he felt. Since the war had ended, he hadn't been contacted by any of his friends. Not even Pansy Parkinson had bothered to reach out to him. He supposed being one of the few Slytherins to remain behind had gained him that response. It made him unsure what to expect when he walked through the doors at Hogwarts. What awaited him in the Slytherin Common Room? Would he be the most popular again, the Prince? Or would he be an outcast for how his family had turned tail?

Draco had questioned his father's allegiance to the Dark Lord constantly. He found it hypocritical the way Lucius always spoke of having the upper hand and sought power when his own father worked to serve another. When it had come time for Draco to receive the Dark Mark and join the ranks of the other Death Eaters in his family, he had hesitated. Narcissa had delayed the process for as long as she could. Eventually, his father had persuaded him to come onboard. The decision hadn't been easy. However, when it came down to it, it hadn't really be a decision at all. There was no choice when you were the son of Lucius Malfoy. There was only the path laid out before you.

Being disowned was a threat both regular and real. His father had referred to it many times while Draco grew up. With few friends and no finances to his name, the thought of being tossed out onto the streets had been terrifying. As he had matured, mastered his classes and how to manipulate others, the terror had diminished. Money was still tied to his father, but at the very least he had his own supporters at Hogwarts who he could crash with if the time came.

But that time was over now.

"Master ready?" A raspy voice broke Draco out of his thoughts.

By his feet stood an older house elf named Norbey. He had been working at the Manor since before Draco had been born. He was the only one that remained in the house.

"Yes."

Draco took one last look around the Manor before following his servant out the door.

* * *

"I can't wait to get the team in check," Ginny was saying, as the Hogwarts Express rode along.

Hermione was only half listening as she gaze out the window at the scenery. Seven years of near death experiences had taught her to appreciate the little things. Each time she rode the train, she felt as if it was the first time. The trees, the rolling meadows, the rivers - each landmark had its own unique identifier. She felt herself beginning to relax as she watched it all go by.

"Gin!" A tall, cocoa haired girl came bursting into their car.

"Romilda!" Ginny jumped up to give her friend a hug. Turning back to her, she asked, "Hermione, do you know Romilda Dedalus?"

"Hello," Hermione smiled over. "Hermione Granger."

"Oh I know who you are," Romilda laughed. "You're famous."

"I believe you are thinking of Harry, but thank you."

"No offense, Gin. Harry is great and all, but you-." Romilda gestured around herself. "Witch power, am I right?"

Hermione felt uncomfortable. Harry was usually the one who dealt with the famous title. It had been both a curse and a blessing at times. Over the years she had witnessed the good it could do and the bad. She didn't want to have that on her. She decided to change the subject. "Are you on the Gryffindor team?"

Romilda's grin widened. "Can you tell? I'm a beater." Her personality matched her position. "Actually, Gin, me and some of the others wanted to see if we could pick your brain on a couple of things. They are in the next car over, do you have time?"

Ginny looked at Hermione. She motioned for her to go. "Sure," Ginny replied.

"Great!" Romilda beamed. She began running over ideas for plays, her hands moving about as she spoke and led Ginny out of the car. "Nice meeting you," she called back to Hermione.

The brown-haired witch turned back to her window. The sky was beginning to darken into the night. Hermione leaned back, resting against the seat. She liked being alone. After being at the Burrow the last several weeks, it was nice to finally have some peace and quiet. George came home quite often, as did Percy. Following the death of Fred, the entire family came together weekly for dinner, but George an Percy arrived almost every night after work to sit down with Molly, Arthur, and their siblings. It didn't bother Hermione. She enjoyed the family atmosphere. What bothered her was the squabbles Ron started with his older brothers, usually finished by his younger sister, and the constant shouting back and forth between teh different levels later in the evening.

That time of the day was reserved for reading. Lately, she hadn't had a spare moment to herself to dive into any of her new books. McGonagell had lent her several to read through so she could pick an independent study topic. Hermione knew she wanted to specialize in Magical Creatures and ultimately work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures within the Ministry.

Her thoughts went back to her parents. Being dentists wasn't a glamorous career but they helped people. She wanted to do the same. Harry and Ron wanted to be in the middle of the action. That was what had made them such great Quidditch players. They enjoyed the attention and the thrill of the risk involved in the game. She was more calculated, more grounded. Being an Auror was not the appropriate place for her. From a young age, she had been concerned about the well being of others, a trait she had inherited from her parents. She wanted to bring that concern to the Ministry. S.P.E.W. may have been a short-lived attempt for equality at Hogwarts, but with the backing of the Ministry, she knew she could create real change in the world.

Determine, she fished a book out of her bag. McGonagell had obtained her a first edition of Newt Scamander's _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and had suggested she also buy a copy of the Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures. Hermione had read Scamander's book several times, so she opted for the Encyclopedia. She turned to the section on the Aitvaras, a rare and dangerous shape-shifting creature. Included in the description was a list of last known sightings. She was reviewing the various countries when she heard the door slide open.

"Granger."

Hermione nearly dropped her book. Her eyes met Draco Malfoy's grey orbs. He stood in the doorway, bag in hand. Before she could object he sat down across from her. He closed his eyes and stretched out. She glared at him, closing her book, and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Malfoy?"

He didn't respond at first. She continued to stare until he opened his eyes back up. "Don't hurt yourself, Granger. The other cars are full."

"I was reading."

"So read." He shrugged, closing his eyes again. He shifted slightly, attempting to get comfortable. He dropped his feet on her bench, sinking deeper into his seat.

"You're in Ginny's spot."

"Weaselette is busy. I don't think she'll be coming back any time soon."

"How-."

"I'm tired, Granger. Mind shutting it?"

Hermione fought the urge to slap him. Only Malfoy would feel so entitled that he would have the confidence to sit down in her car and ask her to be quiet. _Prat_ , she thought annoyed. After several long moments, he hadn't moved. Hermione sighed. When he didn't move again, she reached down for her book and continued to read. At least he was a quiet unwanted guest.

After a while, the train came to a stop. Hermione put her belongings away. Malfoy hadn't moved since he had laid down. His legs were across the compartment, blocking her from leaving. She could hear the other students making their way out to the platform. Her compartment companion hadn't even flinched.

"Malfoy." No response. "Malfoy, we're here." Still no response. "Malfoy, I'm going to turn you back into a ferret if you don't move." Hermione raised her wand.

"Bossy, aren't we?" He straightened up from his seat, slowly lowering his feet off her seat and getting up. "Guess Weasel doesn't put up much of a fight, huh?" Hermione didn't respond to his bait. She pulled her bag shut, keeping her back to him. "Myself, I like a push and pull. Makes things more interesting." Hermione tried to walk past him, but he dropped his bag in the doorway. "In a rush?"

"Move."

"I know you were raised poor, Granger, but that's no excuse for bad manners."

"Git."

"Not very nice."

Hermione shoved past him, finally not caring if any of the other students saw her or heard her. She simply wanted to finish out her year at Hogwarts, earn her N.E.W.T.S. and go on to work. She was not going to allow someone as petty as Draco Malfoy interfere with that plan. He would be in the Dungeons and Potions the majority of his time. After today, she could easily avoid him. She would return to her sanctuary, the library, and bury herself in knowledge. There wasn't a need to fight with ferret-boy. He was just trying to get a rise out of her while he could before they both went their separate ways.

As she exited the train car, she noticed the Headmistress standing on the edge of the platform.

"Oh good, you're both here," McGonagell acknowledged them, as Malfoy appeared next to her.

"Professor?" Hermione questioned.

"Ms. Granger," McGonagell nodded to Hermione. "Mr. Malfoy," she nodded to the smug student to Hermione's right. "You have been named Head Girl and Head Boy, respectively, for this year. Congratulations." She handed them each a scroll. "You will find all the details of your assignment in these. Your Prefects this year are also listed in the scrolls. Since the renovations are still underway, we've secured you new chambers on the sixth floor. You can each create your own personal password for your entry."

"Thank you, Professor. I-."

"You'll have to excuse me. I need to attend to the welcoming ceremony." Professor McGonagell looked over her shoulder to wear Hagrid was standing with a lantern. He gave a quick wave at Hermione. "I have high expectations of both of you while in this position. Do not make me rethink my decision."

"Yes, Professor," they both responded.

"Good. I'll see you both at the feast. I'll make a formal announcement to the students there. Congratulations." She headed off past Hagrid back to the castle.

Hermione was left standing on the platform stunned. She had strived for Prefect status. Head Girl was another achievement she had longed for. She had never anticipated Malfoy being the Head Boy. The position would look exceptional on her application to the Ministry, especially when it was attached with her N.E.W.T.S. scores. But could she survive an entire year of being called 'Mudblood' and dealing with the hostile treatment from the ferret? She looked over at Malfoy for the first time since McGonagell's announcement. He was smirking.

"Roomie." He mock bowed at her and strolled down the platform to the carriages, whistling to himself. With an inward groan, Hermione followed.

 _It's going to be a long year_ , she thought.


	2. Little Do You Know

**Chapter 2: Little Do You Know**

Draco Malfoy had boarded the Hogwarts Express hoping to come across a familiar face. No one from his year was on board. He had heard that most of their families had been locked up in Azkaban for the dealings as Death Eaters, but he had expected to at least see one of his old housemates. Those he did see eyed him cautiously. The Slytherins muttered "traitor" under their breath as he walked by. The Ravenclaws would see him coming and look busy, so as not to be bothered. The Hufflepuffs were even ignoring him. By the time he reached the Gryffindor section, he was out of options. At this point, he could only hope there was an empty compartment he could hide away in.

Passing through the gold and crimson clad students, he heard more whispering. Some said "Death Eater" others called him "enemy" but the worst was "coward." He could let go of the other names. Coward stuck. He didn't have the Gryffindor bravery. Defying his father was a damn near impossible task. Defying the most powerful wizard the world had ever know was out of the question. It was a death sentence.

His mother had been aware of how critical being in the Dark Lord's graces were. It was why she had enlisted Severus Snape to make the Unbreakable Vow with her. She would do whatever she had to in order to protect her son. Draco had struggled with his task from the moment it had been asked of him. Taking another's life was beyond what he was capable of. He had wanted to hurt others before. He had felt the desire to cause harm to another individual, most often his own father, but he had never gone as far as to entertain the idea of murder. No matter how dark of a facade he put on, Draco had never crossed that line.

The day he saw the dead bird in the Vanishing Cabinet, he had felt the full weight of his task on him. He heard his father telling him what a disappointment he was to the Malfoy bloodline, what a disgrace he was, and how disappointed Lucius was that he was their only child. He saw Potter beating him at both Quidditch and Potions. He saw Granger beating him for the top marks in their year. He saw Weasel becoming the best Keeper Gryffindor had seen in a while. All around him, others were succeeding easily, while he wrestled with his commitment to a task that determined whether or not he lived or died.

Draco recalled how the Dark Lord taunting him over and over again. He had known if he wasn't able to fix the cabinet, his parents would pay the price of his failure. Seeing the bird had rattled him. It felt like an omen of what was to come. Despite his misgivings towards his father, he didn't want to see Lucius dead. He was his father, after all. Narcissa had always been a kind and loving mother. Draco couldn't bear to think of how she would be tormented before death, just to cause him additional pain before his life was ended. Crossing the line became necessary to ensure their survival.

Perhaps his choices had been wrong. Perhaps his failure had been in not seeing any other choice. That made him flawed, not a coward.

He moved toward the back of the train where he noticed what appeared to be an empty compartment. When he got to the door, he saw one student sitting by herself in the corner. Book open, head down - he knew instantly who it was. Weighing his options, he decided he'd take his chances with the bookworm over the unfriendly crowds. He slid the door open and walked in with false bravado.

"Granger."

He took a seat across from her, settling in with the intention of taking a nap. Hopefully it would make the train ride go faster.

"Malfoy?"

She sounded shocked to see him. He was surprised himself. He had heard she had been offered a position within the Ministry along side the rest of the Golden Trio. If such a position had been offered to him, he would have gladly accepted. He was curious as to why she had chosen to return to Hogwarts instead of pursuing a career with her best friends. He had very few memories of them not being together. After the war, he expected them to be even more inseparable, if that were possible.

His curiosity was put on hold, as she attempted to make him leave. Draco found it easy to rile her up. It actually made him feel slightly better. Getting under her skin made him feel in control, if only for a brief moment. After some typical back and forth banter, he was able to convince her to be quiet and he dozed off.

The next thing he heard was her snapping at him to move. _Bossy as ever,_ he thought to himself. _Little Miss Know-It-All._ He decided she wasn't going to best him. He was here for the entire year. His parents were not around to pull him out and the Ministry was keeping tabs on him. He was going to be at Hogwarts until he had passed his N.E.W.T.S. He might as well have some fun.

Since she wanted out of the car so bad, he decided to push her buttons further. He strategically dropped his bag directly in her path, blocking her from stepping out of the compartment. He watched the anger flare up in her eyes, saw how tense her body got as she tried to restrain herself from assaulting him. After the punch she had delivered in third year, he wasn't eager for another physical confrontation with her. He did have to admit it was fun to challenge her. She was one of the few who could truly rival him.

Crabbe and Goyle had never been too bright. Pansy was a doormat and Blaise...well Blaise was haughtier than Draco. They had all been there as his own personal entourage. Despite their constant presence, the value they had provided was mediocre at best. He couldn't carry an intelligent conversation with any of them except for Blaise. However, Blaise had his own priorities.

He let Granger push past him, following close behind. Her form was still tense. He smirked. He had gotten to her again.

Draco's mood had improved. And then McGonagall's announcement came.

In his mind he could see it. The student body already despised him. The moment it became known that he was made Head Boy, it would appear that he had been given special treatment. One of two assumptions would be made. First, his father had paid off the school to obtain the role for Draco. Or, it would be assumed the Minister mandated this as part of his unite platform. There was no way any of the students would believe Draco had truly earned the position. After all, next to Hermione Granger - brightest witch of her age, best friend to the Savior, and war hero - what qualified Draco Malfoy to serve as Head Boy?

He didn't recall the ride to the castle or navigating to the new Head dorms. It wasn't until Granger put her hand on his arm that he even realized they had arrived. Instinctively, he pulled away from her and snapped. "What Granger?"

Her brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before sighing. "Did you hear anything I said? " There was a hint of irritation in her voice.

"No."

"Are you ready to set your password? I'd like to get settled before the Feast."

Draco focused on the portrait in front of them, where Glanmore Peakes was tapping his foot impatiently. "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, accepted," Glanmore stated. "You may enter."

The portrait swung forward, revealing the entrance to their quarters. Draco gestured for Granger to move forward. She hesitated for a moment, unsure. When he didn't move, she quickly walked past him inside. He followed. Once inside, he looked around. There was a common room area with simple lounge furniture and a fireplace. Off to his left was a door marked Head Boy. He noted a similar door to his right marked Head Girl.

Wordlessly, he escaped to his room. It was done up in emerald and silver the way his Slytherin House dorm had been. There was a private bathroom off to the side of the bed and a large window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. Draco figured McGonagall thought he'd appreciate the view, but he had no intention of going out for the team this year. Even before the train ride, he had thought it would be in his best interest not to mount a broom in a sport where others might knock him off or fling a bludger at him. He would confine himself to this room or the library for the remainder of the year. He wanted to stay off the radar.

There was a calendar hanging up near his desk. He flipped through the pages, before taking a quill out of his bag. He drew a black "X" through the date.

 _1 down, only 302 to go_ , he thought glumly.

* * *

Hermione sat at her new desk, carefully organizing each drawer and laying out the top to maximize her study space. She pulled out the scroll Professor McGonagall had handed her on the train platform. She read through the details.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been granted the Head Girl position for this term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The duties of this role are identified as the following, in addition to leading your fellow Prefects in their duties:  
\- representing the school at events  
\- delivering public speeches  
\- serving as a strong role-model for students  
\- sharing pupils' ideas with the school's leadership_

 _Please find attached the list of Prefects who are assigned by House._

 _Gryffindor  
\- Ginevra Weasley  
\- Quinton Flaccus_

 _Ravenclaw  
\- Gwendolyn Flores  
\- Horatio Levy_

 _Hufflepuff  
\- Doris Marchbanks  
\- Albert Griselda_

 _Slytherin  
\- Astoria Greengrass  
\- Hengist Diggle_

 _Please note, as you prepare for your N.E.W.T.S. as part of your core curriculum, it is expected that you show progress in one of your weakest areas of studies from our extra-curricular and elective offerings. For your development, we have selected Divination or Flying. We wish you the best of luck with the coming year._

 _Yours Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress_

Hermione sat the scroll aside. She had enjoyed being a Prefect. Becoming the Head Girl was the next logical step in that progression. Prior to the war, it had been her goal. It was another achievement to add to her list, another badge to don with honor when she went for interviews. Though it was no longer necessary, she couldn't shed her perfectionist nature. Besides, without Harry and Ron to distract her or the threat of the Dark Lord looming, she would have more time to focus on her studies. She was coming to accept it. If Professor McGonagall believed she could do some good for the school and the Wizarding community in this role, she would strive for that.

However, she was less accepting of the new requirement to take Divination or Flying again. The thought of facing Professor Trelawney again was not appealing in the slightest. Confronting her fear of flight was equally unappealing. She frowned and moved away from her desk to continue unpacking. Maybe Ginny could teach her, if she wasn't too preoccupied with her duties as Captain along with being a Prefect.

After an hour, she had gotten her room laid out the way she wanted. She brushed through her hair, added a touch of lip gloss, and left for the Welcoming Feast. It would be the perfect opportunity to ask Ginny what she thought about the new addition to her class schedule.

* * *

The Great Hall looked the same as it always had. Draco found it both comforting and annoying.

He recalled how he had sat with his parents after the battle, unsure who to talk to or what their purpose was in being present. He had been conflicted at that moment too. On one hand, he was safe. His parents were safe. Potter had vanquished the Dark Lord and somehow the Golden Trio had miraculously survived. On the other hand, he was an outcast. He didn't belong with the happy trio, who were all fawning over each other and their hordes of friends and family. He hadn't left with the other Slytherins or the Death Eaters, some of who were his family. Instead, he felt as though he were in some sort of strange limbo between both worlds.

It was that same feeling he had now. He glanced between the house tables. All the students in attendance were happily chatting away with their friends. There were less then in past years, which he attributed to the lingering danger from the war. He noticed Granger sitting with Weaselette and the other lions. She was talking to a tall, intimidating looking dark-skinned girl who was animatedly waving her hands about as she chatted. Draco turned back to the problem at hand: finding a seat. Slytherin was his house, but it was anything but welcoming. He sat towards the end, near the doors. He didn't want to attract too much attention to himself.

"Good evening." Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I would first like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Jasper Pennifold. Professor Pennifold will be joined by his sister, Aramita Pennifold Elphnick, who will be teaching Transfiguration." There was a round of clapping, before she continued. "As you are all aware, the castle is still under renovation from the war. Certain corridors are off-limits to students during this time. I must ask you all to be cautious when walking to your classes to make sure you follow the signs which have been posted throughout the castle. The Astronomy Tower is closed. You will note in your class schedule the new room assignment. If you need guidance, please seek out your House Prefects or the Head Boy and Head Girl."

Draco glanced up, upon hearing his new title.

"That brings me to my final announcement. The Second War has come to an end. While we are grateful this terrible time has passed, there is still to be done. The Minister has asked us all to remember that we have all been affected by the events that transpired here. He wants us to remain united. Under this belief, I am pleased to announce that Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Draco Malfoy are our Head Girl and our Head Boy for this year." Some students began whispering to each other. A few even looked over at him. "Please join me in congratulating them on this achievement."

There was another round of applause. Draco could tell it was more for Granger than for him. He stole another glance over at the bookworm and locked eyes with her. Immediately, Draco turned away, focusing on his empty plate. Had she been staring at him? He busied himself with grabbing something to eat. She had been looking at him the way one looked at a wounded animal. It agitated him. He didn't need her pity. He had been through far worse than a bunch of classmates gossiping about him.

After dinner, he didn't linger. He retreated to the solitude of his dorm.

* * *

Hermione felt heat rush to her cheeks as Malfoy caught her gaze. While McGonagall made the announcements, she had watched him. On the train he had been the same overconfident, self-entitled prat she had come to know over the years. The moment the Headmistress had given them their assignments, his demeanor had changed. She found it akin to shock. He had mutely followed her to the dorms, his eyes glazed over. She could hear Ron and Harry mocking him in her mind. They would have been pleased to witness him so out of character.

It reminded her of how he had acted in sixth year. At the time, she knew something was off. She had no idea he had been part of Voldemort's plot. A tiny part of her had been impressed with his ability to restore the Vanishing Cabinet. It was no small task and required a high level of dedication. She wasn't afraid of him being caught up in another sinister scheme. This time there was a difference. He wasn't being consumed by fear. He was being consumed by loneliness. It made her sad for him. The petty side of her said Good riddance, he deserves it, but the larger part of her felt terrible for him.

"Earth to Hermione."

A voice drew her back to the feast going on around her. She looked over at Romilda. "Already thinking about those seven N.E.W.T.S. you have to take?"

"Eight, actually."

"Eight!" Ginny's eyes went wide. "What else are you taking now?"

"I have to take Divination or Flying. It's a new Head Girl requirement."

"Easy," Romilda patted her on the back. "Flying. Gin and I can teach you. No sweat."

Hermione looked at her best friend. Ginny didn't appear as confident. She knew very well how Hermione didn't like to fly. When they had been at the Burrow, Hermione sat off to the side reading while the rest of the Weasley clan played Quidditch or other make-shift games they created to help them with their Quidditch skills. The one time Harry had convinced her to join, she had fallen off the broom less than five minutes in and had spent the rest of the afternoon with Molly, who had worked several healer spells to get ride of her sprained wrist and black eye.

"Thanks, Romilda," Hermione smiled at her, "but I think I will have to swallow my pride and go back to Professor Trelawney's class. Flying and I aren't exactly simpatico."

"You're missing out!"

Romilda began digging into the food before them. Hermione followed suit, helping herself to some of her favorites, feeling happy to be back at Hogwarts. It was the closest thing she had to home these days. She spent the evening talking to Romilda, Ginny, and the rest of the new Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Ginny also introduced her to Quinton, the other Gryffindor Prefect.

It was hours later when she entered their shared quarters. She found her roommate sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

"Malfoy, are you alright?"

"Yes."

His ton was sharp. She knew better to push him, so she headed to her bedroom. As she opened the door, she stole a glance over her shoulder. He was still sitting in the same position, looking terribly defeated. This was not the insufferable git who called her names and made cruel comments about her background. Though she knew she shouldn't care, she did. Pureblood or not, Draco Malfoy was a student of Hogwarts and a survivor of the war, same as her. He deserved a friend.

"Malfoy?"

"I said I was fine."

"Quit the act. You are not. No one goes through what you went through and is fine."

"Well I am."

"Bollocks."

"What do you know about it?" He hissed, jumping up from the couch and rounding on her.

Hermione took a step forward, holding his gaze. "I know you weren't given a choice. Voldemort-." He flinched when she said the Dark Lord's name out loud. "Voldemort probably threatened your life and the life of your family, maybe even your friends here. I know you aren't a killer." He scuffed at her remark, but she continued. "I know you grew up in a home where Pureblood ideals, money, power, and society status are considered everything and someone like...like me isn't worth your time, but-." She stopped for a moment, biting back her lip. "But you you warned me about the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup."

He crossed his arms over his chest, defensively, and dropped his gaze. "Your hair would have led them right to you."

"It must be lonely being you."

"I don't want your pity, Granger," he snarled, glaring at her. "You couldn't possibly understand."

"Stop it!" Hermione yelled at him. "Just stop it, Draco."

He froze at the sound of his first name.

"You aren't the only one who lost something in the war." She continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I lost friends. I watched people I loved die in front of me. Your parents are alive. They are protected. Teddy Lupin's parents are dead. Mine are in another country with no memory of their life here or any idea they ever had a daughter. If I found them tomorrow they wouldn't recognize. That was the cost of keeping them safe. That was what I had to do so people like your parents didn't murder them for simply not being magic-born. I gave up my family, my home for the war. What did you give up?"

He was staring at her. She felt her anger diminishing. The outburst had been more telling than she had wanted, but she didn't care. Who was he to think he was the only one hurting? What gave him the right to walk around with a chip on his shoulder? He was lucky. He still had both his parents. He had his home to go back to. She was tired of feeling sorry for him.

"And in case you forgot," she lifted up her shirt to reveal the scar his aunt had left the prior year. "I have this as a constant reminder of what I lost...of what I had to give up."

She was aware of how his eyes fixated on the mark. His expression was unreadable. Hermione was still self-conscious about the scar. She rarely allowed anyone to see it. Realizing he was still staring, she yanked her sleeve back down.

"For the record, it wasn't pity. I was trying to be civil. You should try it sometime."

With that, she marched to her room, slamming the door at him.


	3. Battleships

**Chapter 3: Battleships **

It was three days until Draco saw Granger again. He heard her come into their dorm, each time hurrying through the common area to her bedroom and promptly shutting the door. When he went to the Great Hall for meals, he saw the girl Weasel and her friends, but not the Head Girl. They had a few N.E.W.T.S. courses together. Somehow she managed to get to class before him each time, selecting a seat in the most crowded area, surrounding herself with others like a barrier. He knew she was avoiding him. He didn't know what to do about it.

After her outburst in following the Welcome Feast, he realized she was the only one in the entire school that spoke to him. McGonagall seemed to be done with him now that she had publicly appointed him to the Head Boy position. The other professors must have gotten the memo. They were professional and to the point. Not a single one of them asked him how he was fairing after the war or questioned how he was dealing with his family situation. Even Filch ignored him. Granger was the single exception.

Part of him questioned why he cared. She was Muggle-born and he came from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood families. They were from two opposite sides of wizarding society, not to mention they had been on opposing sides of the war. It would be best for both of them if he left her alone. If the past was any indication, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't result in some terribly backfired plan.

If anyone in this school deserved to hate him, she did. Draco could still hear her screams when his aunt had tortured her in his home. He hadn't been in that room since. There were nights when he woke up to that scream. It was always in his mind, but it was always there. He had determined it was his penance for letting that horror happen to her. Despite all of that, she had come to him that first night, trying to help him. She truly was a Gryffindor. It was ironic really. The one person he had bullied the most throughout his Hogwarts career was the only person willing to give him a second chance.

And he had pushed her away.

When he finally did see her, it was at the first meeting of the Heads and the Prefects. It was after dinner and the Great Hall was empty except for the ten of them. He contemplated arriving early to speak with Granger, but decided against it. Instead, he sat in his bedroom until five minutes past, then made his way to the meeting.

"Now that we are all acquainted, let's move on to our first order of business." He could hear her voice as he stopped within the large door frame. She was sitting next to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Prefects, across from the other four. Levitating behind her was a calendar of their school year. "The first Quidditch match is next Saturday between Ravenclaw and Slytherin." Weaslette let out a whistle to showcase her enthusiasm. "It is expected that we will all be in attendance. I'm hoping we all look out for the first years, since this will be their first match and some may get lost traveling out to the pitch." There were a few amused looks shared and one of the Hufflepuff girls blushed. "Also the Headmistress has decided that we will be-."

Granger stopped speaking when she noticed him standing in the doorway.

"Late much, traitor?" Horatio Levy sent him a glare.

"My mistake." Draco took a seat at the end of the table.

"Typical," Horatio muttered. "Wealthy Purebloods and your egotistical bullshite."

"Excuse me?"

"We all know how you got the Head Boy position, Malfoy. Daddy bought it the way he bought everything else for you...with his blood money."

"Horatio!" His housemate put her hand on his arm.

"It's true," Doris Marchbanks, the Hufflepuff Prefect nodded.

"That's not fair," Astoria Greengrass spoke up. "My sister didn't come back this year. It was too much for her."

"Was it too much for her because your parents are on trial for being Death Eaters?" Quinton Flaccus of Gryffindor asked.

"That is enough!" Granger shouted, her voice booming in likeness to the former Headmaster. All faces turned to her, Draco included. Her eyes were dark and her fists were clenched tightly, one with a wand. "If anyone here so much as looks the wrong way at another member of this team, I will direct that individual to the Headmistress to be reassigned to another member of the student body who would prefer to be here in that persons place. We are the role models for the student body here. If you can't keep your childish arguments out of this, then you do not deserve to be here. Do I make myself clear?"

No one so much as blinked.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

A chorus of "no" came out.

Draco watched Granger take a deep breath, close her eyes for a moment, then proceed. "As I was saying before Mr. Malfoy returned from the library, where he was helping me prepare for our first event..." She paused to look directly at Horatio, who lowered his gaze, instantly becoming fixated on his feet. "...which is going to be a ball."

As the girls in the Great Hall erupted into excited chatter, he continue to stare at Granger. She had covered for him. Why? He had not know anything about McGonagall's plans. He certainly did not need to go to the library to prepare for a dance. He had been to numerous unsanctioned parties in the Slytherin Dungeons and his parents had drug him to every fundraiser and society function they were invited to. He could have planned this in a night, if he needed to, not that he was about to announce that fact.

"Historically, the only time we have held a ball at Hogwarts has been as part of the Tri-Wizarding Tournament. However, in light of recent events, Professor McGonagall feels it would serve as a good reminder of our unity if the entire student body was given the night off to celebrate before leaving for the holidays." Granger turned to the levitating calendar and used her wand to flip the pages back to December. She draw a bright red circle around the date. "We will need to be prepared by Thursday, the twenty-third. My plan is to divide up all the required activities between us so no one is overburdened with this event on top of their classwork. Does that sound fair?"

Her proposal was fair, but after her earlier death glare, Draco doubted anyone would object. He was right. No one muttered a word. They all just smiled back and nodded. Damn, Granger was scary when she was mad. He had forgotten the look of pure loathing she had sent him in third year when she had smacked him square in the nose. Looking back, he realized he deserved it. He had not idea she could turn from the shy, know-it-all bookworm into a bloody murderous attacker. In a way, it was kind of sexy.

 _Wait...what?_

He shook his head. This being an island unto himself situation was really messing with his head.

"As you can see on the chart here," she pointed to another scroll that began levitating in front of the group. "We need to come up with a theme, talk to the House Elves about the menu, and work within the budget to include additional services such as music and decorations. I have broken us out into teams of two. Ginny and Hengist, you will be in charge of the menu. Make sure you clear all items with the House Elves before you finalize it. Horatio and Doris, you are in charge of the music. We've been given a strict budget, so we need to stay within that range. Astoria and Quinton, you will have decorations. That leaves Albert and Gwendolyn to work up the theme. I'd like to have weekly meetings to status check on where we are. We can keep it to this time and place, if that suits everyone."

The group nodded.

"Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Thank you. Meeting adjourned."

The group disbanded, everyone heading off in toward their respective dormitories. Draco held back, but he wasn't the only one. He noticed Astoria Greengrass waiting by her seat.

"Hermione?"

"Hey Astoria, did you need something?"

"No, I just-," the raven-haired girl looked away for a moment, unsure, then, "I just wanted to say thank you."

Granger's brow furrowed. "Thank you?"

"For sticking up for my sister, Daphne. I know our family was on the other side during the war. I can't imagine what you think of them or me, so thank you." She lowered her head, looking ashamed. Draco wondered if he should leave. The girl looked as though she were about to cry.

Without a second of hesitation, Granger smiled understandingly and said, "We aren't our parents. Their time has come and gone. It's our time now. You get to write your own story. You get to be your own hero."

Astoria's face brightened up. She wiped the back of her sleeve across her face, slowly smiling back. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Astoria."

"I'm glad you're Head Girl."

"Thank you. I'm glad you're a Prefect and I'm looking forward to your decoration proposal."

"A ball," the girl's smile widened. "It's exciting, isn't it?"

"Yes," Granger replied, gathering up her belongings.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Astoria."

Draco watched as the younger Slytherin walked out. Then he approached Granger. She was stuffing the calendar into her bag, completely unaware.

* * *

"Granger." Hermione jerked slightly. She hadn't heard _him_ come up behind her.

He chuckled. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

"Piss off, Malfoy."

She had made sure to stay as far away from the Head Boy as possible over the last few days. He had made it perfectly clear that he did not like their arrangement any more than she did. After hearing him complain in their dormitory, she had just snapped. She was disappointed in herself for allowing him to get to her. She was usually better at controlling her emotions. Once she had gone to her bed chambers, she had mentally chided herself. First, she had over shared. Secondly, it was Draco Malfoy. She needed to be cautious when it came to him. Letting him get under her skin and provoke a response was probably exactly what he had wanted. And she fell for it.

That was not about to happen again.

Quickly, Hermione grabbed her bag off the table and rose to leave. In her haste, her foot got caught under the bench, causing her to lose balance and pitch forward. Hmph. She watched the contents of her bag fly across the floor. Her body didn't follow. Malfoy had snaked his arm around her waist, holding her up. The instant she realized he was touching her, she broke out of his hold, turning to face him. He was smirking, looking quite proud of himself.

"And to think that could have been you," he mused out loud, gesturing to her items.

"T-Thank you."

He shrugged. "I owed you."

She raised a brow, as she began re-collecting quills, books, and other things. "Since when does Draco Malfoy owe anyone anything?"

"You covered for me with that prat from Ravenclaw."

Hermione froze for a split second. At the time, she hadn't had time to think about Malfoy's tardiness. She had grown accustomed to covering for Harry and Ron over the years. The lie had rolled off of her tongue effortlessly. "We are co-Heads," she responded. "It wouldn't look good for us to be bickering when we have been asked to show-."

"Unity," he interrupted, with an annoyed tone. "This publicity stint of Shacklebolt's is being forced down all of our throats."

"It's not just a stint," Hermione countered. "We need to overcome our past in order to have a successful future."

"Are you his publicist now?"

"No." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. It didn't surprise her that Malfoy wasn't on board with Kingsley's platform. She finished accumulating her possessions and closed her bag. Rising to her feet, she caught him watching her with a strange expression on his face. _Is he smiling?_

"I recall when Umbridge was here no one wanted her interfering with Hogwarts. She was Ministry too. It's different now that Shacklebolt is calling the shots though, right?" Malfoy pointed out. "Because he was on your side."

"Sides has nothing to do with it. Look at the bigger picture."

"Which is?"

Hermione could feel him getting to her again. His goading was frustrating her. She took a deep breath, swallowing it. She was not going to let him win again. "We are still divided. We are winners and losers, those who fought against Voldemort and those who fought with him. Until that changes, there will always be a rift in our community. Change is never quick or simple, but without it, we will fall back into the same mistakes that caused this lose of life and destruction to our world. I don't believe anyone wants that again, not even you."

Now he was smiling.

"Same old, Granger. So stubborn but always taking the morale high-ground. It's a bit annoying, actually. "

"Excuse me?"

He ignored her. "So what now?"

"Kingsley has already laid the ground work. If everyone can start making their own efforts, even just small acts, I think in time the world will heal itself. Of course, it would help if-."

"Granger." Malfoy held up a hand, stopping her. "I meant you and me. What can we do?"

 _We?_ She found herself staring at him in disbelief. Had he actually just asked what the both of them could do...together? Maybe Malfoy had been late because he had fallen down the stairs and hit his head. He certainly wasn't acting like himself.

"You want to help?" She asked, still not fully processing what he had said. "But you're...you're-."

"Son of Lucius Malfoy, notorious Death Eater; chosen one to assassinate Albus Dumbledore; and all-around Pureblood douche." He smirked. "Did I hit all the major points?"

She wondered if this was a joke. Maybe this was a new attempt to annoy her. Perhaps he was looking for a way to get back in with his old Slytherin pals. Pulling one over Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter, and member of the 'Golden Trio' would certainly get him back into his old clique's good graces. She had to keep her walls up. After all, this was Draco Malfoy she was talking to. She couldn't be too careful. He seemed to sense her indecisiveness and continued.

"Someone said we aren't our parents and that we get to write our own stories, though," he chucked to himself, "I doubt I'll be cast as the hero."

Hermione blushed. He had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Astoria. Truth be told, she had been thinking of him at that moment, but she had also been thinking about Harry. He had shared with her how disappointed he had been in how his father, James, had acted towards other students, particularly Professor Snape when they had attended Hogwarts together. Sirius had gone through a much tougher transition, leaving his family to pursue what he thought was right. She found herself wishing he was around. She believed Malfoy could benefit from talking to his relative.

"There is such a thing as an anti-hero, you know," she told him as they began walking back to their dorm.

"Still has hero in the title."

"Mmmm, you're probably right. There's some things even magic can't fix."

He halted in the middle of the corridor. "I'm trying to be civil here, Granger. You should try it sometime."

She stopped next to him, frowning. "Don't use my lines on me!"

He took a step in her direction, getting closer. "What lines would work?" His tone had changed and she could see the flicker of something mischievous in his gray eyes.

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "Does that really work for you?"

He shrugged and continued walking. "Used to."

Hermione laughed. "Wow."

"What did Weasel do that worked on you?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to freeze. He wore a smug grin on his face. It was a silent dare.

She was aware of how intently he was concentrating on her. There was a chance this was all some dumb game, all a ruse to trick her or make her feel inferior in some way. Despite that, she found that she couldn't break out of his eye contact. There was a strange hold upon her. She realized she was examining him with the same linear focus he had on her. His hair had been trimmed since she had last seen him. It was still pale blonde, but had hadn't bothered to keep the length or the gel to smooth it back. There was stubble on his checks and chin, making him appear more mature. His eyes were the most hypnotizing. The unnatural gray color seemed to change with his mood. Earlier she had noticed they were dark, the way the sky clouded before a storm hit. Now, however, they were a lighter shade, akin to an overcast sky, after the rain. She wondered if he still had his Dark Mark under his robes or if he had had it removed.

"Must have not been too memorable," he teased, breaking her from her thoughts.

Hermione "It was last year, during the battle. Ron told me that he wanted to warn the House Elves."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," she nodded, brushing past him to the stair case. He followed. "Not everyone tries to get into a girl's pants by shamelessly flirting."

"So that's the line he used to get into your pants, huh?"

"No!" Hermione flushed. "No, that's not what I meant. I was trying to make a point that-."

"Kidding, Granger." He waved a hand at her, strolling ahead of her. She noticed the color of his eyes had darkened once again. His tone came out flat and sharp. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch."

She turned her angriest glare on him. He didn't notice. His back was towards her. She felt the desire to hit him surfacing again. Why was it that this prat always got her blood to boil? It had started out as a pleasant conversation. Then he had gone and ruined with. Shaking her head to herself, she told herself she should have been prepared for this. It was Malfoy. A part of her was a bit sad. Prior to him prying into her personal life, she had actually found herself enjoying their talk. He wasn't so bad when he was acting like a human being.

When he had caught her earlier, she had been aware of how quickly he reacted. He had touched her with such ease, as if it didn't go against everything he had been brought up to believe in. It had surprised her. What surprised her more was how nice it had felt. Though the contact had been brief, she had felt the muscles in his arm as he moved. The silent strength there was definitely appealing. Malfoy had always been handsome. Slytherin Death Eater or not, he had caught the attention of many females. Hermione had never allowed herself to get caught up in the fascination because she had been interested in Ron. She was still interested in Ron, she reminded herself. However, after that touch, she could see the appeal. Malfoy was tempting. _Stop it_ , Hermione, she scolded herself.

"Granger." She snapped her attention to where he was standing several yards in front of her by the door to their room. _He waited for me?_ His behavior was becoming increasingly puzzling. Hermione found it both annoying and intriguing. "Are you coming in or not? I haven't got all night," he grumbled.

Quickening her pace, she followed him into their chambers. As she entered, she noticed Pigwidgeon sitting on the fireplace mantle. In his talons was a letter. She retrieved it, recognizing Ron's sloppy script across the parchment. Hermione didn't want to read it in front of Malfoy. She went to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

 _Mione,_

 _Neville joined Harry and I in Auror orientation. You should have quit studying to come along. It would have been like old times with the D.A. We all passed our Auror field training this week. Didn't expect anything else, but Mum's proud. She made a fuss when we got home from the Ministry._

 _We've been asked to speak at the official badge ceremony Friday. Kingsley said there is going to be a huge feast afterwards. I bet they will have steak and kidney pie._ _ _I reckon if you ask McGonagall, she'd give you leave from your classes for the day to be there. If she says no, you could always sneak out. Get Gin to cover for you.  
__

 _ _It's brilliant here at the Ministry. Everyone is so friendly. Harry is used to being famous, so I told him to send all the fans my way. There's one witch, Corrine Donovan, who keeps baking me homemade treats. I didn't know anyone could make fudge as good as Mum's. You'll have to try some when you visit for the badge ceremony.__

 _See you soon,_  
 _Ron_

She had always know Ron could be thick but this was a new low even for him. One, she was not leaving Hogwarts to become an Auror and she was certainly not sneaking out for the ceremony. If he wanted her there, why did he wait until now to owl her? A few days was not enough time to prepare the travel arrangements, not to mention ensuring she caught up on her classwork and Head Girl duties. And who was this girl, Corrine? Didn't Ron have any brains at all? It was like Lavendar Brown all over again. The moment she thought that, Hermione regretted it. True, she had been upset when Ron had begun dating Lavendar, but the witch had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione did not want to feel any ill will towards her.

Hermione re-read the letter from her boyfriend. No matter how she tried, his lack of support and utter disregard for her feelings agitated her. He didn't ask once how she was fairing, question about her course load, or even congratulate her on her Head Girl position. It was as if he didn't notice her at all sometimes. She shook her head. Crumbling the letter up into a ball, she tossed it into the waste basket under her desk. She pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and penned a reply.

 _Ron,_

 _Congratulations!_

 _I can't make the ceremony. I have to take an extra N.E.W.T.S. class and I have my Head Girl duties._

 _Best of luck,_  
 _Hermione_

Maybe he'd notice if she didn't show up.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to Dani and my girl, Skye for their reviews. I'm glad to know someone is enjoying this story. And Skye, thanks for encouraging me to get back to writing fanfics! I may change the title and the description a few times. I'm not sure how best to "market" my story, but I know where I want to take it.


	4. Parallel

**Chapter 4: Parallel**

Friday rolled around and Hermione hadn't so much as received a post from Ron. Ginny, unaware of the offer Hermione refused, mentioned that Harry owled her every day to check in on how the Quidditch team was coming along and how the new professors were. Though she knew her best friend meant well, it irked Hermione. She didn't understand how Harry had more time to write than Ron. She pushed around the food on her plate at breakfast, dreading her first class of the day: Divination.

The climb up the North Tower felt more like pure torture than exercise. Hermione could smell the tea brewing as she hit the landing. Willowy puffs of steam danced out from the door of Professor Trelawney's classroom. She forced herself to enter the class, head held high, trying not to focus on how she had stormed out during third year.

"Oh goodness," the eccentric teacher exclaimed, when she saw Hermione enter. "Your aura is shifting dramatically. I don't believe it knows what it is." She peeped at Hermione over her spectacles. "Perhaps you don't know what you are either, my dear. Is that why you have rejoined my class?"

Hermione ground her teeth together, holding back a retort. Taking a breath to steady herself, she said, "Good morning Professor Trelawney, I've brought my supplies to get started. Do we have assigned seats?"

"You can not assign energy, my dear, so why would I restrict my students?"

"Um...right," Hermione nodded, finding a seat in the front. Thankfully she only need a pass or fail in this added elective. However, as she watched Trelawney greet the other students, she realized obtaining a passing grade was going to rely more on her being able to keep herself in check versus actually gleaming any information of the future.

About twenty minutes into class, the Professor had them making and using their own pendulums for yes or no divination. Hermione had crafted hers carefully and finished before everyone else. She followed the instructions to calibrate the tool. As she held the stringed crystal over the tabletop, she asked, "Am I Hermione Granger?" The crystal swung back and forth. "Is my best friend Lord Voldemort?" The crystal swung side to side, as she expected to signal the correct 'no' direction. Now that her pendulum was ready for use in the class activity, she looked around the room. The others were all still working on stringing their stones and crystals.

 _Maybe it won't be so bad_ , she thought. So far it seemed that she had had no issues with her work.

"Ms. Granger." Professor Trewlawney eyed her pendulum skeptically. "Did you create this prior to class in an effort to make your classmates feel infereior?"

"No, of course not, Professor." Hermione felt a sting of hurt at the insinuated insult. "I followed the instructions on page 16, as you asked."

"Ms. Granger," the professor made a 'tsk-ing' sound and shook her head. "I'm afraid you fail to understand how powerful the third eye is, dear." Hermione raised an eyebrow, not understanding. "I can see all that has been seen: Past, Present, Future. You cannot lie to me."

"Professor," Hermione began, feeling slighted. "I'm not lying. You saw me sitting here. I began at the same time as everyone else."

"I'm disappointed in you, Ms. Granger. As Head Girl, I thought you would respect this art and all it has to offer. I'm sorry, but I do not believe you belong among the enlightened, such as myself."

 _Maybe not._

A few moments later, Hermione was making her way back down the tower steps. Her face flushed her anger, she grumbled profanity under her breath as she made her way to the library. With the exception of Snape, she had never been chided by a Hogwarts professor in class before. She did not like this feeling. She was Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor who solved the mystery of the Basilik, discovered her DADA professor's werewolf condition, and had assisted in locating and destroying Voldemort's horcruxes. She was not the type to get thrown out of class. She was not the type to give up on a commitment. Yet here she was.

Hermione sighed, as she entered the library. She felt defeated. There was only one option now. She wasn't sure how she was going to master flying on a broomstick, but as she wandered down the familiar aisles of books, she knew she didn't have a choice. Returning to Professor Trewlany's class was no longer an option. She had burned that bridge back in third year. There was no going back now.

She located several books on flying. Harry preferred Quidditch Through the Ages, but Ginny had recently mentioned another title to her. She decided she would give it a try, along with a few others. Gathering them up together, she checked them out with Madame Pince and returned to the Head's dormitory. The silver lining of having left the North Tower so early was that now she had a couple hours free before her next class.

Back in the dorm, she sat her bag on the floor and settled down on the couch.

"You're back early," Malfoy commented, as he entered.

Hermione gave him a brief nod. "You are too."

"I had Alchemy," he shrugged. "Got done my first assignment early. How about you?"

"Professor Trewlany accused me of cheating, so I walked out."

"Whoa, watch out! Bad girl, Granger coming through." He teased, flopping into the chair next to her. "Must have felt good after all those years of goody-toe-shoeing."

"I'm trying to study, if you don't mind."

She forced her eyes to focus on the pages in front of her. Malfoy's signature smirk seemed different today. Normally she could see the pleasure he was deriving from someone else's folly. Today, he appeared to be laughing at his own inside joke. The slight distinction made him more attractive. It reminded her of the half-smiles the male models wore in ad campaigns for male lingerie.

 _Oh, you did NOT just think that, Hermione Jean Granger._

"What are you reading now, Granger?"

"The Witch's Broom: The Craft, Lore & Magic of Broomsticks," she responded, not bothering to look up. She didn't want to look at his face again.

"Why?"

"Since I had to drop Divination. Flying is my only other option."

He groaned, dramatically. "You can't read to learn how to fly."

"Why not?"

"There are some things you can learn by reading and then there are things you just have to do to know. You can't live life within the margins."

She lowered the book to glance up at him. While he still looked like the smug prat she had come to know, there was a seriousness to his tone. She was surprised by how easily she could relate to his words. In first year, she had learned that all of her knowledge, while handy, couldn't replace the fun she had breaking the rules to spend time with Ron and Harry. Being friends with them had opened her eyes to what she had been missing. As an only child, she had been accustomed to entertaining herself, hence her reliance on books and dedication to gaining knowledge. It had been her coping mechanism prior to Hogwarts.

"I'll figure it out."

"Have it your way, Granger." He rose from the chair. Adjusting his satchel on his shoulder, he moved for his bed chamber.

A thought occurred to Hermione. Before she could think it through, she sat up on the couch. "Wait, Malfoy." He paused, pivoting around. "Could you teach me? To fly, I mean?"

His lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, right-hand of Potter the Savior, asking me, a known Death Eater and Pureblood, for help?"

"Nevermind," she rolled her eyes and turned back to her book, embarrassed. _Why do I even bother?_ She held the book up in front of her face to hide the flush of her cheeks. She was angry with herself for ever considering asking him. She would just need to beg Ginny at dinner to spend a few hours with her over the weekend. Maybe Romilda would help her. She had offered earlier in the week and if the both of them worked together there was a slim chance that-

"I'll do it." Malfoy's statement jogged her out of her thought chain.

"What?"

"You heard me, Granger." He dropped his satchel on the floor, coming over to her. He rested his forearms on the back couch, leaning over to look at her. "I'll trade you."

She furrowed her brow, not understanding him. "Trade me?"

"I got stuck with my own electives: Muggle Studies."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing, but a small giggle escaped. "Mug-Muggle Studies?"

"Obviously, I would have rather picked something like Ancient Runes," he rolled his eyes at her reaction. "Give my past...history, McGonagall thought it would work in my favor, especially given that my parents are currently on trial."

Hermione noticed his face fall at that last part. She had read in the Daily Prophet that Lucius Malfoy was testifying against his fellow Death Eaters. While it meant that many would be captured and brought to justice, it also meant that he and his family were at risk of attack. It also hadn't surprised her. Mr. Malfoy was, if anything, an opportunist. He would be the one to find a way around serving time in Azkaban and ultimately accepting a Dementor's kiss. What did surprise her was the worry etched onto his son's face. She believed Draco Malfoy's relationship with his father to be complicated. And that was putting it delicately. However, when it came to the matter of his mother, she had only ever witnessed deep love and compassion between the two. Harry had confided in her about how Narcissa lied for him in the Forbidden Forest in return for him sharing info about Draco. Hermione could tell that the woman meant a great deal to the Head Boy.

"Have you heard from them?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"No," he answered quickly. "They are not allowed to have correspondence outside of the Ministry." He paused, briefly before adding. "It's supposed to be for their protection." He scuffed. "As if those idiots could protect them from people like my aunt."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange. Malfoy must have noticed. He strolled over, plucking the textbook out of her hands.

"Hey!"

"Come on, Granger. We are not going to stay in here and sulk."

* * *

Draco navigated them through the corridors to the seventh floor. He gestured for her to follow, as they walked in a large circle around a large bare wall Finally, after the third pass, he stood by a large bare wall for several minutes. Then the door began to appear in front of them.

"The Room of Requirement?" Granger questioned."Why are we here? Shouldn't we be out on the Practice Pitch?"

"Only if you want a few broken bones."

He watched her nostrils flare in anger at the suggestion. Smirking, he entered the room. As he had mentally requested, the room was expansive and bare with a high ceiling. Aside of the entryway was a broom closet, housing several different makes and models of practice brooms. The majority of the floor was covered in what appeared to be a giant white mattress. It would be a much more forgiving surface than the grounds.

"Over here," he directed her to the closet. He helped her to select a broom and then chose one for himself. He had considered bringing his personal broomstick, but had decided in case anything went wrong during their practice, he'd rather have it in one piece back in his bedchamber. He hadn't seen Granger around a broom since first year, but he had overheard Potter and Weasel making fun of her countless times.

"I feel silly," Granger commented, preparing to mount the broom.

"You look it," he teased, watching the flicker of anger light up her eyes. If anything could get her through this, it would be her need to do it in spite of him. "Seriously, Granger, it's just a broomstick. First years are less afraid of it than you are."

"It's not the broomstick I'm afraid of," she snapped.

"I know you are intimidated by me," he began, noting how she rolled her eyes. "But there's no need to be afraid."

"Malfoy!"

"Granger."

"Y-you-you-you..."

"Forget the English language?"

"Just get on with it!"

Draco mounted his broom, lifted off the ground, and did a loop around the first half of the room. He gestured around him, illustrating how easy it had been. Granger followed his lead. She teetered a bit trying to get off the ground, but managed to rise to his height.

"You need some work on your take-off."

She glared daggers at him. Before she could do more than that (he was concerned she may try to hex him at some point), he took off, doing a larger loop around the room. Granger once again followed. She was clutching the broom so tightly he wondered if she'd snap it in half. For her to excel at flying, she would have to learn to let go a little. He removed his hands from his broom, navigating by simply leaning his body in the direction he wished to turn. Granger watched his movements and slowly sat up straighter. She took one hand off the broom, then the other. Very cautiously and very steadily, she raised each arm, one at a time, until she mimicked his movements.

It lasted only for a few seconds, before she moved to turn and took it too tight, causing her to lose balance and lurch to the side.

Frantically, she reached out, latching on to his left arm and pulling him off his broom as they both fell onto the cushioned ground below.

"Hhmphf."

They landed in a tangled mess of limbs, the brooms bouncing down behind them. Draco could feel the weight of her body against his before he opened his eyes to see her startled and reddening face. Granger had her hands bracing herself against his chest, keeping her upper body hovering over his. Her legs had landed in between his own. Her hair was hanging down around her face, shielding her somewhat from his line of vision. He could still make out the scarlet color that had blossomed across her skin. Even her ears were red. He decided to play it up.

"Falling for me already, Granger?"

She shoved him, as she pushed herself up and walked to her broom.

"Is that a yes?" he inquired.

"You really are daft, aren't you?" she shot over her shoulder at him.

He noticed she was smiling to herself and shaking her head. Though she was attractive when she was glaring daggers at people, he found himself pleased more by the sight in front of him. Her hair was tossed about, curls falling all around her face, which was flushed from the excitement of the fall. Her lean form moved so gracefully. It was her smile, he decided, that was what had him bewitched. Despite her objections, she was still grinning to herself, unaware that he could see her from his position.

It was foolish of him to think they could be friends. They were barely acquaintances. This was a business arrangement. He was helping her out with flying so she could teach him about Muggle culture. It was beneficial for each of them. At least, that's what he told himself. He stole another glance, as she stood there practicing her kick-up and take-off. Her entire posture was rigid and she was beyond concentrated. He smiled, despite himself. She would always be that way, so hell bent on being the best and mastering everything that was thrown in her path.

He recalled how beautiful she had looked at Yule ball in her dress. Viktor Krum had seen it. The Bulgarian seeker had automatically been drawn to the bookworm, staying close to her all year and not surprisingly asking her to be on his arm for the ball. Draco wished he had had the bravery to ask her to dance that night. Instead, he had remained in the back with Pansy, as she whined about this, that, and the other thing. Later that evening, as they returned to the dungeons, he had heard Granger crying. Later he had found out it was because of Weasel.

For the first time in his life, he found himself feeling jealous of Ron Weasley. That red-headed git had no idea what he had or how much Draco would give to have someone as loyal and caring as Granger by his side. Maybe if they had been friends from the start, maybe things would have been different for him. Maybe they could have even been more than friends.

 _Get a hold of yourself, mate._

Draco needed to get out of the dimly lit room and away from his memories. "Ready to take this outside?" he called to her, as he stood up.

Granger's face paled. "Now?"

"No time like the present."

"But this is the first day. Don't I need more practice."

"Yep. Outdoors."

He led her out of the castle and down to the Practice Pitch. As they got closer, he heard Madam Hooch barking orders at the first years. He realized it was still considered morning period and that they would be on the field until lunch. Granger looked relieved, until he mentioned they could use the Quidditch Pitch because it was vacant. She didn't look pleased, but she didn't back down. They walked in silence down, all the while Draco focused on the fresh air and the scent of the newly trimmed grass. The sun was out with only a few dots of clouds along the horizon. It brought him out of his own head space. By the time they reached the main gates, he had forgotten all about his feelings.

"Now, we're going to fly around the pitch once. We don't have a lot of time before our next class, so just once for today. We can come back down for more practice next week."

Granger nodded, but she didn't move.

"You actually have to get on the broom," he commented, sarcastically.

She didn't rise to his bait. Instead, she slowly lifted one leg over the broom, mounting it cautiously. The color had drained from her face again. "Malfoy, I can't do this." Her voice quivered with each word.

"I'm not going to let you fall, Granger."

She either didn't hear him or she wasn't listening. She didn't look at him. Her gaze was focused solely on the broom handle. He was certain he had never seen her so frazzled. Her hands were shaking and her breathing was coming in short spurts. If he had know it was this easy to get to Granger, he would have brought her out for a lesson years ago.

Seeing her practically hyperventilating over something as simple as flying should have made him pleased or at the very least granted him the satisfaction to know she was not perfect at everything. He felt none of that. Instead, he felt protective.

"Granger, look at me." She didn't move. "Hermione." Her head snapped up. That worked. "I am not going to let you fall," he repeated, slowly in a serious tone. His eyes never left hers. "Do you trust me?" It took her a moment, whether due to an internal struggle or the overwhelming fear of flight, he wasn't sure. Finally, she nodded. "Good. Let's go."

Draco got on his broom, alongside of her. He felt her gripping onto his sleeve, keeping him from moving too far away. "I'll be right next to you the entire time, ok?" She nodded again. "I will not let you fall." She seemed to ease a bit after he repeated himself a third time. "Now, kick up."

He demonstrated, hovering a few feet off the ground. Granger closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. When she opened her eyes, she kicked up, triggering the broom to rise. Instinctively, she pitched forward at the motion, her hands tightening around the handle until they were white. Draco leaned over to steady her with one arm.

"Good. Now follow me. We'll take it slow, alright?"

With her brief nod as permission, he flew towards the opposite end of the field, aiming for the central goal ring. He held back his pace, aware of how too much distance cause Granger to slow down almost to a complete stop. It took some time, but eventually, they were both perched in between one of the hoops.

"Not so bad, is it?" He teased, trying to take her mind off their height. Draco noticed she was no longer clenching the broom for dear life. Her posture had improved with her confidence and she sat up straighter.

"It's not," she replied, sounding surprised. She surveyed the pitch, her head turning slightly to take in her surroundings. "It's actually beautiful up here. I can see why you enjoy it so much." She gave him a genuine smile.

Draco felt his chest tighten. The way she was looking over at him made him feel something. He couldn't quite place it, but the warmth spread from his chest throughout his body, rolling through him like a wave. The thought of coming out here with her on a regular basis made me hopeful. For what, he wasn't sure, but he felt as if there was something beginning now. _She really does have a gorgeous smile._ He realized he was still staring at her and quickly turned away. He missed her blush and do the same.

"Let's hope you as good of a tutor, Granger."

"As if you have to ask, Malfoy."

They headed in from the pitch, so they could attend to their next class: Charms. Granger's mood had improved since he had found her in the dorm. He noted how she walked with confidence, as if she was on top of the world.

"What?" She caught him watching her.

"Pretty proud of yourself, huh?"

"And why shouldn't I be?"

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You Gryffindors are always so proud."

"And you Slytherins are always arrogant."

Playful banter he could do. It was comfortable territory. Whatever they had started getting into when above the pitch was something else. Friendship didn't seem to be the appropriate definition. Draco didn't dare to let his mind wander further down that chain of thought. He couldn't think like that. He wouldn't. The only ending for something like that was disappointment. He wasn't some hero, no matter what Granger said about writing their own stories, or whatever line the Ministry was pushing down their throats. He was a Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater, a Pureblood, and a Slytherin to boot. There was no chance in hell that the one third of the Golden Trio walking aside of him would ever see him as anything else.

Hermione Granger was a war hero and a genuinely good person. The way she had instinctively stood up for him and how she had befriended the Greengrass girl were both recent examples of the type of individual she was. Putting others needs before her own was one of the qualities that made her a Gryffindor, along with her lionhearted approach to all problems. Since first year, she had matured. Her wildly curly hair had been tamed. The over-sized wardrobe she had once worn had been replaced with more posh items and she was wearing a hint of makeup on a daily basis. She had come into her own. She was beautiful inside and out.

And she deserved someone better than him.

* * *

 **A/N: **I'm trying to keep this as close to canon as possible (with the obvious exception of their relationship). So far, do you think it's too much detail? Not enough dialogue? I'm open to feedback.


	5. Better Together

**Chapter 5: Better Together  
**

Charms passed by in a blur. Though Hermione usually found Professor Flitwick's teachings to be inspiring, today she struggled to listen to anything he had to say. She was still coming down from the thrill of flying. When she had gone with Harry or Ron, the sudden rise and fall had made her feel sick to her stomach. The air rushing past her drowned out all other noise, deafening her as her insecurities took hold. This morning had been the reverse of that. Learning to direct herself upwards allowed her to control the speed and upward angle. The wind served to keep her hair out of her face and for that she was glad. If her hair had blocked her vision, she would have missed the gorgeous view.

For a moment, up there above the school grounds, she felt as if the war never happened. It was so peaceful, so serene. She couldn't hear anything except her own breathing. In that moment, she didn't feel the burden of being Hermione Granger. She didn't need to worry about keeping up appearances for the sake of her reputation or what others expected of her. She could simply enjoy her tiny accomplishment.

She had been terrified earlier. Recalling how she had plummeted in the Room of Requirement, she was grateful to Malfoy for being careful enough to begin inside first. His characteristic manipulation of the situation had actually served to rid her of her humiliation. The suggestion was preposterous and he knew it. She had laughed about it and brushed it off until they were on the Quidditch pitch. Something had changed.

When he had called her by her first name, she saw his expression. There was not a hint of humor in it. His eyes were lighter than she had ever seen them before. Then later, she had turned to him and found him staring at her. His eyes were still light. At first she expected him to make a snarky comment. Instead, he had turned away and announced it was time to go back. There was no name-calling, no jabs at her House-pride, nothing from his typical arsenal of insults. For a second, she had wondered if he fancied her. Immediately, heat had erupted against her cheeks. Now that was preposterous.

Malfoy didn't fancy anyone besides himself. If there was anyone at this school he cared for, it was a short list and there was no chance she was on there. Just because they were roommates and taking similar classes, didn't make them friends. It barely made them acquaintances.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick called upon her.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Apologies, Professor. I was reading ahead. What was the question?"

"Could you please remind us all of the removal spell for the Atmospheric Charm?"

"That would be _Meteolojinx Recanto_ , Sir."

"Very good. Would you care to demonstrate for us?"

Hermione noticed the thunderstorm brewing above their heads. Some of the students had already cast umbrella charms in anticipation. She expertly twirled her wand, reciting the incantation. Immediately the clouds dissipated and the ceiling of the classroom returned to normal.

"Excellent."

Professor Flitwick returned to his lesson, lecturing on the needs for using the charm. Hermione felt guilty for lying, but she couldn't be caught daydreaming in one of her N.E.W.T.S. classes, especially in front of the other students, name one in particular. She spent the rest of the lesson taking copious notes, keeping her head down and focused on the task at hand.

When she got back to their chambers, she found Pig waiting in the common area. He was carrying another letter.

 _Mione,_

 _I can't believe you missed the ceremony today. Kingsley asked where you were. I was so embarrassed. I thought my girlfriend would be there to support me. I had to stand in between Neville and Harry while they got their badges. No one was there for them either, but I thought if you were there it would make for a better shot in the Prophet. I miss the old days when you were always around.  
_

 _ _Corrine even asked where you were. She's going to be the Auror office secretary. She asked for a transfer after the ceremony. I made the mistake of telling Mum how good her baking is. The next morning when Harry and I came down for breakfast, Mum had made about twenty types of fudge. She muttered something about how she never had to worry about you upstaging her because you don't bake. Harry nearly snorted fudge from his nose. George started choking. See what fun you're missing?  
__

 _See you soon...hopefully,_  
 _Ron_

Hermione rolled her eyes at the nickname. She couldn't remember who had started between Ron and Harry but she had never liked it. Her name wasn't difficult to pronounce. She had a momentary flashback of Viktor attempting to say it and laughed to herself. Maybe it wasn't easy for a non-native speaker. When it came to her best friends, it shouldn't have been a problem. Even Ginny did it sometimes and Hermione had confided in her fourth year that the nickname bothered her. What was the need to shorten everything?

"Again?" She all but screamed out loud when she noticed how he had signed the letter. Furious, she took Pig and the letter into her bedroom so she could pen a response back. Ronald Weasley was not going to like what she had to say about this...not one bit.

 _Ron,_

 _If you're so worried about me, why don't you come to Hogwarts? I'm sure your fans would love to see you. The Halloween feast will be coming up in a few more weeks. As I recall, you prefer the fudge at Hogwarts._

 _Hermione_

She gave Pig a treat, which he gobbled down gratefully. He nipped at her fingers lightly, asking for more, which she happily provided. Gently stroking his feathers, while he ate, she thought about her letter. All of the words were dripping with disdain and sarcasm. She had been extremely short. Even though she was upset he had still not asked her about her coursework or her position, she wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. She was not about to reward his terrible behaviour with a long, warm letter. Instead she was going to give him a clear sign that this was not how she expected their relationship to go. She had supported him for years. She demanded he support her now. It was unlike her. Normally she was more in control of her emotions. Typically, she would have let all of this roll off her shoulders. Maybe Malfoy was rubbing off on her.

Pig chirped at her, threatening to begin one of his songs. She realized she had stopped petting him. "Take that to Ron, please." She instructed, giving him one last treat. He took off out her window.

Hermione noted the time. She ventured down to the Great Hall, joining Ginny and Romilda at the Gryffindor table. The three caught up on how their classes were going, before the subject turned to the Gryffindor house Quidditch team. Romilda was excited about the teams training and looking forward to their first game, the Saturday after the Ravenclaw Slytherin game. She was trying to explain their new strategies to Hermione, while the Head Girl ate. When the topic shifted to the subject of significant others, Hermione didn't comment. This did not go by unnoticed by her best friend. Before she could stop herself, Hermione was sharing the situation with both witches. Her anger had snowballed into a new level of frustration with the predicament, causing her to fight back tears by the end of the story.

"Hermione," Ginny said gently, taking her friends hand. "I love Ron. He's my brother, but-." She made a face. "You and I both know Ron is not the most perceptive."

"I thought things would be different now that we're officially together."

"This is why I go for girls," Romilda interjected. "There isn't this level of drama."

"Maybe when he comes to the Halloween feast, you can tell him how you are feeling," Ginny suggested, ignoring Romilda's comment.

The Head Girl shook her head. "I wasn't serious. I was being ironic."

"Again," Ginny laughed. "Ron isn't perceptive. I don't think he'll understand. He probably will see it as an invitation."

"Yeah, for his fans," Hermione muttered, annoyed.

"You're his biggest fan."

"I think that title goes to Corrine Donovan."

"Oh." Ginny's face fell slightly. "He brought her up to you, did he?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "He did."

"Oh."

"Ginny?"

The red-headed witch busied herself with the food on her plate.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked again, not letting up.

The youngest Weasley sighed, pushing her plate away from her and turning in her seat to face her friend. "Harry may have mentioned in one of his letters that he didn't like the looks of her. Called her a glory-seeking, gold-digger or something like that. He was under the impression that she was after Ron for his fame, despite the fact that he has you, his girlfriend."

"And you're only just telling me about this now?"

"I didn't want to upset you. I know you've been stressed over your workload what with Divination and all."

"Actually, I quit."

"You what?" Ginny's voice rose to a volume that caused several heads to turn. Hermione grimaced. "You quit?" Her friend asked in a softer tone.

"She was out of line."

"Big surprise," Romilda chuckled. "She's bat-ass crazy, that one."

"I agree," Hermione smiled.

"But wait," Ginny held up a hand, putting the pieces together. "If you quit, then won't you have to take exams for Flying?"

"Yes."

"Yes? Just like that?"

"I don't have a choice."

"This will be interesting," Ginny mused aloud. "When do you want to practice?"

"It's ok, really. I actually already went out today. It wasn't too bad."

"You went by yourself? That's really not safe, Hermione. What if you would have fallen? Who would have known you were even out there?"

"I wasn't by myself."

Ginny looked at her teammate, expectantly.

"I didn't take her," Romilda held up her hands.

"Malfoy did."

"What?" Both girls chorused.

"I told him I'd help him with his Muggle Studies if he helped me learn to fly."

"Muggle Studies." Romilda broke into a fit of laughter. Ginny, however, was not as pleased by her friend's announcement.

"Malfoy, as in Draco Malfoy? The prat who used to torment you on a daily basis because you are Muggle-born?"

"One in the same."

"I think I need a Firewhiskey."

Hermione chuckled. "You and he could fight for the Biggest Drama Queen title."

"Do not," Ginny pointed a finger at her, creating a rather likable impression of Mrs. Weasley. "Do not compare me to him!"

"If you say so," Hermione grinned.

The girls finished up with their dinner, turning the topic of conversation onto a far less sensitive subject: the new professors. Neither Ginny nor Romilda brought up either Ron or Malfoy the remainder of dinner, which Hermione was thankful for. After being around the boys for the last several years, it was comforting to have some girls she could talk to. Ginny had been there, of course, but now without the threat of war looming over them, or Harry and Ron's antics, they could actually have a normal school experience...whatever that was. Hermione had to admit. She did find it refreshing to have girl friends. It was a very different perspective.

As she wandered back to the Head's room, she remember that she owed Malfoy a Muggle Studies lesson. She hadn't had a chance to speak with him since their morning outing. Despite her earlier distraction in Charms, she had to admit she was eager to begin. Spending time with him had actually been enjoyable. It was almost as if he was starting to open up to her. She wondered how much of it was real and how much of it was due to the fact that he had no one else. This year, unlike prior years, he didn't have his faithful cronies tagging along.

He wasn't back yet from dinner. She parked herself on the couch in the common area and read through her Potions essay.

"Hey," she greeted him, as he entered the dorm. She had been trying to look busy so he wouldn't realize she had been waiting.

"Granger." He moved to sit down across from her in the arm chair.

"Do you want a crash course in Muggle?" He rolled his eyes dramatically, but she could see the hints of a smile. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I just sat down!"

Ignoring his lazy protests, she led them back through the castle. They returned to the Room of Requirement, where Hermione silently requested several items that would help her explain the way Muggles lived without magic. When they walked inside, it reminder her of a museum she had visited once. The room had what appeared to be an oversized doll-house, large enough for them to move through. Inside were the items she had requested, with the exception of a pair of bikes and car sitting just outside.

"What is that?" Malfoy pointed to the bicycles.

"A bike."

"What is it for?"

She laughed, recalling how impressed Mr. Weasley was with all Muggle items. She had bought him a bike last Christmas. He still couldn't ride it properly. Harry had attempted to help her teach the Weasley patriarch, but he still struggled with the balancing while peddling part.

"It's a mode of transportation."

"So it flies like a broom?"

"Not exactly."

Hermione got on one of the bikes, demonstrating how to properly ride it. She peddled about, circling Malfoy, then the car, and finally the house as a whole. "As easy as riding a broom," she grinned.

"Isn't it powered by elects?"

"Electricity," Hermione corrected. "And no, it's user-operated. You have to peddle. Muggles use this as recreation and exercise." She gestured for him to try it out.

He took the other bike, swaying side to side as he got on. His balance was a bit shaky. He peddled slowly along, the bike threatening to tilt over on either side a couple of times before it slid out from underneath him, completely. Hermione muffled a laugh. He ignored her, chasing after the object.

"Salazzar," Malfoy cursed, as he tried again. This time he peddled too fast and didn't turn in time to avoid hit the wall.

Hermione walked over, straightening him out. "Here," she said, standing next to him so she could position his hands in the correct spots on the handle bars. "You need to be able to steer to avoid," she paused to giggle lightly, "obstacles."

"Very funny," he snapped.

"And your feet," she bent down to grab his ankle, pushing it forward. "You need to have them more firmly on the pedals to they don't slip off." She did the same for his other foot. Backing away, she gave him a satisfied grin. "Now try."

* * *

Draco felt ridiculous. This Muggle contraption, the bicycle, was a pain in the ass. He felt like a total tosser. The only thing that kept him going was the need to out-do Granger. She had picked up on how to fly. He needed to excel with this. In past years, they had been the top two students in marks. He expected to get all "O's" on his N.E.W.T.S. He knew she did as well, but he wanted the coveted number one spot this year. With the absence of Quidditch from his schedule this year, earning higher grades than her should be achievable. In order to get a passing grade for Muggle Studies though, he relied on her. And she was good instructor.

 _That's all this is_ , he told himself. _It has nothing to do with her smile._

He attempted to ride the bike again. On his third attempt, he found a rhythm to advancing the pedals forward. After Granger had adjusted his feet, he found he was able to move along with less force _._ Steering was straightforward. The hand placement differed from a broom, but the balanced required to drive both was similar. With a few moments, he was cycling through the room with ease. He glanced over at Granger, who was beaming.

She clapped her hands together, happily. "Look at you go!"

"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing special," he complained. "I'm sure a first year could do it."

He didn't want her to know how pleased he was that he had accomplished the task so quickly. She had required a bit more work on the broomstick. There was no need for him to know how to ride a bike. One he graduated, he would probably never even see one again. With magic at his disposal, it wasn't a practical mode of transportation. Regardless, he admired the various ways Muggles had adapted to getting from point A to point B.

"Actually most Muggle children learn at an earlier age, like four or five."

"Thanks," he rolled his eyes.

Draco felt himself deflate. Granger may have taken longer to get comfortable with flying, but he was learning a toddler's level of skill. Flying was something first years were taught in school because of the danger risk. She was still ahead of him. He returned the bike to where he had found it.

"Do you know any games? Durian mentioned we'd be getting into them later this term."

"Oh, sure," she motioned for him to follow her into the make-shift house. "There are tons. Solitaire, Dominoes, board games like Candy Land, Hangman-."

"Let's play that."

"Ok."

Granger reviewed the details of the game. It seemed to be elementary. "If you don't guess the word or phrase before your opponent draws the hangman, you lose." She finished with her explanation.

"And you think Wizards Chess is barbaric," he teased.

"I guess it could be considered cruel from an outsider's perspective," she mused, stepping back from the chalkboard to review the image. "So do you want to buy a vowel?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind, it's from a TV-show," she laughed to herself.

"TV?"

"We'll talk about that another time."

They had a lot of ground to cover. The Muggle games were strange. He wasn't sure why there was so much effort involved in each of them. Despite the confusing rules and unsatisfying completions, he was enjoying it. Learning about the culture wasn't as entertaining as watching Granger teach it was. She was eager to share with him every detail of Muggle life. She often went on about certain customs or objects he had no idea about, then realized her mistake and back tracked. He wished she was his professor instead of the boring Professor Durian. His seminar this week had been so bland that Draco had considered pulling his hair out one by one, just to keep himself occupied. He had decided that he was too attractive to remove his naturally platinum locks.

After playing a round of Hangman, which he barely won, she introduced another game called Rock-Paper-Scissors.

"What is the point?"

"Of the game?"

"No, Granger, of life. Yes the game."

"It usually is used for fun or to settle disputes between friends or siblings."

"I never had any," he remarked offhand.

"Me either."

They had something in common. He wasn't entirely sure why he had told her that. It wasn't as if it was a secret. He was sure she had already known or had guessed. Just because his parents were wealthy enough to have a household full of children like the Weasleys didn't mean they wanted to. Sometimes he felt his mother would have liked to have had another. He would have liked a sibling, preferably younger so he could boss him or her around. Being the sole heir to the Malfoy bloodline, estate, and fortune meant a great deal of pressure. Lucius excelled at applying it. It had been his main hobby throughout Draco's entire upbringing.

His early childhood had been typical per Pureblood standards. He had no idea what typical was for Muggleborns, especially someone who had such natural talent, such as Granger. Draco found himself wondering what she had been like. As a small magical child in her world, all alone, with no knowledge of the wizarding world, he could see it being lonely. He tried to imagine what had triggered her first use of her powers. Draco envisioned a miniature version of her causing books to fly about the room, or finding wounded animals outside and magically healing them, or attempting to fix her bushy hair only to set it on fire. The last image made him chuckle out loud.

"Something funny?"

"Just thinking how I"m going to ace this class and you are going to be in second place for once."

"Over my dead body."

"I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it."

"You're on."

"Rock, paper, scissors...shoot!"

They both threw their hands out at each other. He had chosen rock. Granger had chosen paper. Her face broke into a grin and her eye twinkled. "Ha!" she cried, jumping up from the floor. "Eat that Malfoy!"

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be gracious winners," he mumbled, but he couldn't hold back his own smile as he watched her do a little victory dance.

Maybe they had more in common than both being the only child in their families. They had both come out of the war with scars. They had both decided to come back to Hogwarts to complete their studies. They had both been forced to take additional coursework they weren't interested in. He didn't have any friends. Her friends weren't around. Sometimes it felt that they were the only ones who saw the other.

Maybe they were better together.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to all my faithful readers who have been leaving reviews and following. I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far. Each time I get a new one, it inspires me to write more and continue with the story.

 **thegrangermalfoy:** Thanks for the love!  
 **SageMcMae** : I'm so glad you're back. Are you going to write more for the Labyrinth fandom?  
 **lasvegasskye** : Oh she did and there's going to be even more of that in the next couple of chapters.  
 **SavingAngel8** : Thank you for your comments. I agree. When I read Dramione, I lose interest if they just get together right away. Though I love the couple, to me the most interesting part is how they find their way to each other. I honestly believe they are the best for one another and that they can bring out what they truly need, but the story isn't believable if they just forget the past completely and get together. Just my opinion. Thanks for the review.  
 **Guest** : Hope this update was soon enough for you. I really appreciate how you feel it's authentic. I write and re-write sections to keep it that way. I'm not our Queen, J.K. Rowling, but I do try to honor her beautiful world.  
 **Legolas' Girl 31** : Hope this chapter was as awesome as the earlier ones. Thanks for sticking with this story.


	6. Bad Blood

**Chapter 6: Bad Blood**

It went on like that between them for some weeks. When in class or even within their shared dorm, they didn't speak much. Hermione was usually busy studying in her room and Malfoy kept to himself, often disappearing off with his own coursework. She had assumed he went to the library, like her, but she never saw him there. Each evening after dinner, they would meet, trading off on who was instructing and who was learning. The first night they had gone out to the Practice Pitch, Hermione had been exceedingly nervous. The lack of light had concerned her. She was more confident than the first time, but flying was still new and the idea of being unable to see where she was going worried her.

Malfoy had been surprisingly patient with her. Despite the voice in the back of her mind that kept telling her to keep her guard up, she found him to be more human when away from the others within the castle. When it was just the two of them he came off as cordial, dare she say, even friendly at times. True to his word, he never let her fall. She came close a couple of times, but he was always right by her side to straighten her out and keep her from taking a nose-dive into the ground. Hermione found herself becoming used to his voice. It had a comforting quality to it when he wasn't harassing her about her bloodline.

The more time they spent together, the more she felt herself becoming used to his company. On numerous occasions, she admitted to herself how handsome he was. He had matured from the slick-haired daddy's boy he been at the start of their time at Hogwarts. He shaved now, to keep his face clean of his facial hair and he had gotten taller, leaner. Even with heels, she wouldn't reach his eye level as she had when they were eleven. At first, she had denied her physical attraction to him. Once he had begun to impress her with his wits, she had given up the charade.

They continued their spit-spat rivalry. It had turned into a sort of game. Each tried to outdo the other. First the competition was who could do the best in their private lessons, but after a couple of weeks, Malfoy began to challenge her in their classes as well. She knew Malfoy was intelligent. He had always been a close second after her in terms of grades, with the exception of sixth. She had never worried about securing her position as the smartest witch at school. Harry and Ron were less keen on education. She had grown used to the idea of being the best in terms of grades. The Head Boy was making her work for it this year. Though she had always been an avid learner and often hung around after classes to ask for extra credit tasks, this term, she found she was neck in neck with him. It should have annoyed her. She had been committed to achieving greatness since her first day at Hogwarts. Instead she found the competition exciting.

Ginny remained skeptical. Hermione understood why her best friend wasn't onboard on her roommate. There was no reason for Ginny to be kind to Malfoy, even if he was helping the Head Girl out. Malfoy's father was the reason Ginny had been subjected to Tom Riddle's cruel plan in her first year at Hogwarts. Malfoy had never been nice to her or any members of her family. While Ginny had her reservations about the deal Hermione had made with Malfoy, she was supportive. She didn't constantly tear down the Slytherin or berate Hermione for trusting him to teach her to fly properly. She inserted a dig once in a while, usually something along the lines of "arrogant git" or "pale ferret". The insults died down over the course of the weeks, especially once Ginny realized that her target wasn't up to his usual narcissistic tendencies.

Her mood had not improved when Slytherin beat Ravenclaw in the first Quidditch match of the season. Malfoy was not on the team any more, but the contention between Slytherin and Gryffindor was rooted as deep as blood prejudices. The youngest Weasley had been in a better mood since the Gryffindor team won their first game against Hufflepuff. Ginny had scored the most points by any female Chaser in Hogwarts history. Romilda had also been praised for her exceptional strategic tactics that enabled the team to win. They had beaten Ravenclaw last week and they were scheduled to play the undefeated Slytherin team the day before the Winter Ball. The entire team had been under a strict training schedule along with threats of coming up on the receiving end of one of Ginny's famous Bat-Bogey hexes. Needless to say, the Gryffindor team was looking a bit worse for wear these days.

With Ginny and Romilda both occupied during the non-class hours of the day, Hermione had ample time to focus on her studies. After seven years of having two constant shadows hoovering about her, she was glad for some alone time. As an only child, she had grown up learning to content herself. Silence wasn't awkward for her. It was comforting. Unlike their earlier years at Hogwarts, Malfoy kept to himself. He could usually be found eating at the end of the Slytherin table alone. Situated close to the doors, he'd appear and disappear with almost no one noticing. Hermione did. She had suggested to him that he should try reaching out to his fellow housemates, but he had rolled his eyes at her and returned to his homework without responding. She found herself smiling as she recalled his look of disgust at her suggestion. There was a time when he wouldn't have been caught dead outside the Slytherin Common Room without at least two of his cronies. Now, she was the only companion he had.

As the term progressed, the preparations for the Christmas ball started coming together. At the next Prefects meeting, Gwendolyn proposed a theme idea which everyone agreed upon: Soulmates. It was romantic enough for the witches and offered up some manly options for the wizards, such as Marc Anthony, Robin Hood, and Lancelot. Yes, most of the couples the guys were interested in had weapons as the main accessory, but at least all the deciding parties were in agreement. From there, all the other areas fell into place. Ginny and Hengist decided to go with meal selections that complimented each other, the way soulmates did. Horatio had a connection to the newest chart-topping band in London, the Swooping Evils. They had agreed to come perform at their Alma Mater for the ball.

Finally, Astoria and Quinton wished to pursue a costume dress code to align with the theme, keeping the decorations non-House specific. Though red was a color associated with love and Christmas, it was also the primary House color for Gryffindor, so Astoria suggested winter white. It would keep up with the theme, while also allowing everyone's outfits to standout, no matter what House they belonged to. Hermione had noticed some chemistry between Quinton and Astoria. There had been a change between the two since she had assigned them to work together. The Gryffindor hadn't made mention of Death Eaters or insults regarding Purebloods. Astoria had begun to wear her hair down and applying a bit of makeup. Hermione assumed they would be the the first Slytherin and Gryffindor couple in over a century.

With all of her extra studying, paired up with the preparations for the ball, Hermione had forgotten about the Halloween feast. Afternoon classes had been cancelled so everyone could dress up to celebrate and have time to observe the holiday. The Head Girl was on her way back to her dorm when she heard a familiar voice call her name. Thinking she had to be imagining it, she continued walking toward the stairwell.

"Hermione."

She stopped walking. It was not her imagination. She turned around to see Ron and Harry waving at her, as they exited the Great Hall with Ginny in tow.

"Ron?"

Hermione recalled Ginny mentioning that her brother would see her last letter as an invitation, but he had never written her back. She hadn't received a single letter or owl since her previous message. She had assumed he was peeved. She had not expected him to show up unannounced.

"Mione." He rushed over and hugged her tightly. "I've missed you so much."

As he embraced her, she waited, expecting to feel relief or happiness wash over her. Nothing. There was no spark, no fluttering of her heart. There had been a time when all she craved was a touch from Ron Weasley. She had spent years trying to earn his approval, hoping he would see her as more than a friend. Now, she had him holding onto her and she wanted to be anywhere but in his arms. She felt awkward and cleared her throat, moving out of the embrace. He pulled her against him tighter. She furrowed her brown, unsure why. That was when she heard the tell-tale snap of a photographer's camera off to the side. Pulling away, she noticed Rita Skeeter and company coming towards them. The noise must have alerted some of the passing students, who stopped to see what was going on.

"Wh-what's going on?" she asked, startled by the gathering crowd.

Ron started to get down on one knee, as Rita and her team circled closer. Hermione glanced up frantically at Ginny and Harry, who both wore similarly shocked expressions on their faces. In fact, Harry looked downright embarrassed.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Ron said her full name, pausing slightly at her middle name, as if he was unsure. Hermione felt as if she was stuck in a terrible nightmare. Over the last few years, her infatuation with Ronald Weasley had grown into love. She had often fantasied about this very moment. She had thought of how she'd act surprised and how she would react upon hearing his proposal. In none of her daydreams had she imagined it taking place in front of the Great Hall and certainly not with a crowd. This was all wrong. This was not how she wanted to be loved.

He pulled out a small box from his robe pocket, opening it to reveal a modest, but clear diamond engagement band. He startled her when he reached for her hand, taking it in his own. "Will you marry me?"

She could feel all the eyes on her face. She heard the numerous clicks of the camera going off. What she noticed most of all was her feelings - there were none. Hermione knew she should have felt elated. She should have been jumping up and down, smiling from ear to ear, dancing around with Ginny excited about how they would be real sisters now, and hugging Harry, and... And she felt none of that. She turned her gaze away from the ring, to look over at Harry. He mouthed "Yes" to her, but she felt her head shake back and forth. She took a step back, her hand slipping out of his.

"Mione?" Ron was looking at her expectantly. He made a face at her, gesturing to the cameras and Rita waiting for her answer.

"Ron," she whispered to him. "Can we go back to my room and talk about this?"

For what seemed like an eternity, though it could have only been a few moments, he just stared at her. She was aware of the buzz of whispers around them. Rita made an outraged "hmpf" sound, tapping her foot on the cool stone floors, impatiently. Ginny and Harry remained frozen, possibly holding their breaths. She wished Harry would say something or that Ginny could have warned her what her brother was planning on doing. She was completely unprepared for this. And she hated being unprepared.

Then Ron's face darkened until it was nearly as red a his face. "Merlin's beard, Mione!" he shouted, his face getting even darker as his anger took hold. "I just proposed and you can't even answer me!"

Hermione took a deep breath, keeping her voice level. "Ron, can we please just talk about this somewhere else without...without them," she motioned to the crowd, who were all waiting eagerly to see the events developing in front of them.

"They are all here because I invited them. I wanted this to be special. The Daily Prophet was going to do a whole write up and I was going to ask Mr. Lovegood to feature us in the Quibbler too," he ranted.

She rolled her eyes, beginning to lose her patience. "Why does it have to be a big thing?"

"Because two members of the team that defeated the Dark Lord are getting married. One is one of the youngest Aurors in the Ministry and the other will be joining him as soon as she accepts his proposal."

"What?" Hermione took another step back, unable to believe what she was hearing. Did he just tell her what she was going to be doing with her life? "Ronald Weasley, what are you on about?"

"Us," he nearly screamed at her, as if that one word filled in all the blanks.

"Mate, maybe we should discuss this in the Gryffindor Common Room," Harry suggested, reaching for Ron's arm to guide him away from the crowd. Ginny started for Hermione.

"I can't believe you!"

All three friends froze at Ron's tone.

"You're supposed to say yes. You're supposed to come back with Harry and I. That was the whole point!"

Hermione stared incredulously at him. He began pacing back and forth in the corridor. Ginny began shooing the crowd away, while Harry worked to calm down her brother.

"Ron," Harry tugged on his friend's robes. "Let's go to the-."

"Leave him be, Harry Potter," Hermione said brusquely. "You have been as absent as him, so let him say his peace. Then you can have your turn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry retaliated angrily.

"I haven't gotten a single letter from you since the start of term," Hermione explained. "He's barely written to me at all," she waved at Ron's general direction, "and you," she pointed to the raven-haired Auror, "haven't written me at all." She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring them both down, daring them with her eyes to respond. "Neither of you have been good friends."

"I write you every week, same as Ron," Harry insisted. "I've been sending my letters for you with Pig, since Ron's were going to the same place."

Hermione was about to call him out on what she believed was a blatant lie, until she noticed Ron had stopped pacing. His red cheeks had disappeared. Instead, he was looking rather pale. She rounded on him, glowering.

"Ronald Weasley."

"Sorry, Harry," he muttered. "I thought if she didn't hear from you or us, she'd miss us enough to come to the Ministry."

"What?" The Boy-Who-Lived was floored.

"What did you do with the letters?" Hermione asked, feeling the last of her calm beginning to disappear.

"Got rid of 'em."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't come with us! I must have asked you a thousand times this summer, Mione, but no, you just had to come back here. Here," he threw his hands up, "here where no one cares about my accomplishments, where all they care about is you and your big brain. You couldn't just let it go and join us. I thought if you were alone, if you didn't hear from Harry and I because we were so busy and having too much fun, you'd get jealous and leave. It's always been the three of us. I don't know why you couldn't let it stay that way. I don't know why you care so much about this place...and not me."

"Ron?" Harry looked as if he had taken a bludger to the stomach.

Hermione stood silently trying to process what Ron had just confessed. He had purposely not written her. He had written about another witch to get her jealous. He had even gone as far as to destroy letters from Harry to her. Hermione had never considered Ron crafty or clever, but this ruse, no matter how despicable she found it, had required planning and care. He had put in effort to ensure she would be secluded. Furthermore, he knew how she hated the way Rita Skeeter wrote up rubbish articles. He knew she didn't care for the limelight. On one hand, she saw his act as a desperate plea to keep her in his life and by his side the way things had been since they were eleven. On the other hand, he had intentionally deceived both her and Harry in an attempt to hurt her. He wanted her broken so he could serve as the hero and bring her "home" to the Ministry. She wasn't sure what hurt more - the fact that he had done this or the fact that he wanted to do it to her to ensure she'd stay with him.

She didn't know this wizard in front of her. Whoever he was, he wasn't the Ron Weasley she had grown up with, the Ron Weasley she had fallen in love with. He had changed. Or maybe she had changed. It was true that the war had altered them all differently. They each had their own scars, their own ways of dealing with the survivor's guilt. Harry no longer had pain from his trademark injury, but he had night terrors. Hermione had them too. Ron had never had the dreams. He had thrown himself into his new job and embraced his new fame. It was what he had always wanted, she knew. It was what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago.

 _He finally got his wish._

She looked over to him, trying to hold back tears. "You complete ass, Ronald Weasley."

Harry and Ginny were at her side in an instant. Harry looked as if he was struggling to find the words, but Ginny remained calm. The red-haired witch put her arms around her best friend in a silent hug. Hermione felt the tears begin falling at Ginny's embrace. She was fighting so many emotions it was hard to decipher which ones there were. When she had decided to return to Hogwarts, she hadn't expected Ron to be upset. Even after a summer of his constant complaining, she had gone through with her plan. Now, he was proposing, believing deep down that his desperate attempt would force her hand. That was her fault. She had maintained this relationship despite knowing her love for Ronald Weasley was fading. Maybe she deserved his anger.

Hermione brushed the tears out of her eyes, moving away from her friends. Harry and her had barely spoken in months. How could she explain to him her feelings of indifference to their mutual best friend? She wasn't even sure if there friendship could survive this. A rejected proposal was a surefire way to kill a relationship. She wiped her face, taking a deep breath as she forced herself to quit crying. She stepped out of Ginny's embrace.

"I need to get back to my dorm before the feast tonight. As Head Girl, I have some things I need to prepare."

"Mione," Harry began. He knew she wasn't alright. She could see his concern in the way he was watching her.

She hugged him. "I'll be fine," she told him. "You better get back to the Ministry before McGonagall sees you both. Just promise you'll send your own owl from now on."

He hugged her back. " I will. But Hermione-."

"Harry." Ginny interrupted, shaking her head. He took his girlfriend's advice and let it go for the time being.

She pulled away from him, to give Ginny a hug,. Finally, Hermione narrowed her eyes, glaring at Ron, who was sulking off to the side. "Feel free to date Corrine or whoever, Ronald Weasley. She might be willing to serve as your trophy wife, but I'm not. We are done."

With that, she walked off, not looking back once.

* * *

Draco had been sneaking off to the Room of Requirement every chance he could to practice. He had mastered the bicycle early. Granger told him his Quidditch experience had helped with it. The Muggle transportation was a skill he had demonstrated for his class, surprising everyone in attendance, the Professor included. For his mid-term exams, he wanted to display an even more remarkable task. He had chosen the car. He wanted to show Granger he was the best out of the two of them, or at least that was what he told himself. Deep down he knew he was trying to impress her.

Maybe it was because he was isolated or maybe it was because she was no longer constantly protected by Potter and Weasel, but he felt as if he was finally seeing her...all of her. He had always felt something for her, regardless of if it was acceptable per his father's standards or not. He had never acted on it, of course. Instead, he had tried to squash those feelings by making snide comments or purposely being malicious. He had thought if he could upset her to the point she went away, he woudln't have to be bothered with his conflicted nature. However, she had proven to be a worthy adversary. She never gave up. That was still true even now.

When he struggled understanding a Muggle technology, such as the Internet, she remained calm. She rarely raised her voice. She never chided him or punished him for not picking up on a concept quickly, the way his father always had. Instead, she would rephrase or demonstrate in a different manner until he grasped what she was teaching him. Draco enjoyed it the most when she guided him with her touch. Her skin, so soft and warm, was always a welcomed motivator. It made it difficult to focus at times, but he preferred to stumble to the point where she had to intervene physically so he would have an excuse to feel her against him.

Her efforts had already paid off. Professor Durian had expressed his delight at Draco's level of participation in class. He had gone as far as to acknowledge Draco's intimate knowledge of Muggle games that he had the Head Boy assisting his fellow students for extra credit during class hours this week. He had taken advantage of it, solely to test the Head Girl. Draco knew she had her heart set on being the top of the class yet again. He had started out the year with every intention of taking that from her. Now, he maintained his plan of competing with her to see how far he could push her. He enjoyed their light teasing back and forth as the challenge became more trying.

Yet nothing was as trying as this car. The trouble was, he was still struggling to understand the gear shift. Granger's sanctuary, otherwise known as the library, didn't have a single book that assisted with that knowledge. He didn't have any friends to turn to either. Yesterday, he had been so frustrated, he had punched a way in the makeshift house she had created. Thankfully, when he returned today, the house had assumed its original layout without the dent he had created.

He refused to ask her. He wanted it to be a surprise when they met up before exams. She had glossed over the car, stating it was too complex to start there. They had been focusing on other areas he would be tested on such as finance and games. While it didn't make sense to him to have both bits of paper and coins for money, Draco had caught on quick to the monetary system. No matter what culture, money was money. It was the path of power and he had been trained on it since birth.

The Internet had become his secret weapon. Once Granger had showed him how to use the feature she called a Search Engine, he had begun searching for articles on how to properly learn the gear shift. This week alone, Draco had spent countless hours searching, reading, attempting, and re-reading until he was sure he understood. He could hardly contain his excitement. He had been picturing how her face would light up, how her eyes would shine with elation. He wanted her to see he was capable of living in the Muggle world. He wanted her to see how he could adapt beyond the constraints of Pureblood society. Maybe then she would see him for who he could be and not who he had been.

As he rounded the corner to the Great Hall, he was unprepared for the sight before him. There was a crowd lingering just outside the main doors. Granger had barely mentioned Weasel or Potter the last few weeks. Draco had thought perhaps things between the Golden Trio weren't as perfect as everyone else believed, especially between Granger and her idiot boyfriend. What he saw now knocked that theory out the window. Flashes of light from cameras were going off and in the middle of all the commotion was Granger and the Weasel, who was kneeling. Draco felt as if someone had hit him with a Stinging jinx right in his chest. Weasel produced a tiny box, taking Granger's hand. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but from their body language it was clear.

Draco backed down the corridor, making sure no one had saw him before he broke into a run to the Head's dormitory. As he raced to his room, he scolded himself inwardly. Why would Granger be impressed with him? He was the last person on Earth that she would consider being with. She was intelligent, beautiful, and well liked. Her respect didn't come from her family name or fear of her parents. The reputation she had was built upon all the good deeds she had completed and how caring she was to the individuals around her, including him. She had proven her ability time and time again. Without being asked, she had sacrificed so much for a world whose prejudices wanted to cast her out and belittle her. People called Potter the Savior, but in Draco's opinion, he hadn't done as much for the Wizarding World as Hermione Granger.

He had to remember why he was here. Regardless of how he felt towards her or what he may have considered pursuing with her, the end game was to pass this year. He needed to remain in good standing for the sake of his parents. That was his motivator. It was his reason for returning to Hogwarts. Their time together was only for the purpose of helping him ace his Muggle Studies exam. Nothing more.

When he reached Glanmore, he muttered the phrase on his family's crest and darted into the Head's chambers. He had been fooling himself by entertaining the idea of them having some sort of connection. They weren't even friends. They were - he wasn't sure what they were. Roommates was probably the closest thing to a definable label he could use. He flopped down on the couch, battling numerous thoughts that were going through his head.

He wasn't sure why he was so upset. Granger wasn't his girl. She had always had a crush on that red-headed buffoon. Everyone knew it. Everyone except the red-headed buffoon. As he sat there, he noticed his hands were clenched into fists. Immediately, he flexed his fingers, releasing them from their instinctive position. Ronald Weasley didn't deserve her.

 _And you do?_

His thoughts betrayed him. He knew he wasn't worthy of her. As much as he hated the thought of seeing her married to another wizard, Weasel was harmless. He was incapable of hurting her. Hell, he was probably more afraid of her than most of the wizarding world because he had seen first hand what she was capable of. He was an idiot, but he wasn't an ex-Death Eater whose parents were standing trial for crimes committed against the wizard community. He had a position at the Ministry. He was best friends with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he had a huge family to keep her company. Weasel had more to offer her than Draco did.

Draco's hands were balled up again and he was clenching his jaw. He grabbed the nearest book off the side table. The words blurred under his haze of wrath. He didn't mind. He wasn't really going to read at a time like this. After a while, he heard the portrait swing open and the sound of shuffling feet. She had returned sooner than expected. He didn't want to hear about her news.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," he sneered, closing the book he had been pretending to read, as he got up from the couch.

"W-what?"

"You and Weasel."

"Why are you being so cruel?" She asked, distractedly brushing her sleeve across her face.

"I thought you'd be in a better mood." He grumbled, as he passed her on his way to his bedroom.

"I don't need this right now, Malfoy," she snapped.

"I was being civil about your engagement, Granger," he told her, resting against the doorway. "You're the one who picked a fight."

"I'm not engaged! Ron and I broke up!"

He could tell from the strained quality of her voice that she had been 's when he noticed her hand. It was bare. There was no engagement ring sitting on her finger. Draco examined her face closer. Her eyes were puffy. Her nose was red. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears and runny makeup. From the way she carried herself, he assumed it was quite a blowout. He pushed himself off the wall, walking towards her. "Granger, what hap-."

"Malfoy," she interrupted, her voice softer. "Can you do me a favor?"

He nodded. "Ok."

Wordlessly, she threw herself into him, burying her face in his shoulder as she began to sob. For a moment, he stood frozen. He wasn't sure what had happened between her and Weasel. He had no idea why she had come to him instead of her Gryffindor friends. Feeling her tears leak through his robes to his skin, he realized he didn't care. She was here now, with him, of her own free will. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He didn't say anything. She didn't need him to. All she needed was a friend.

And for now, that was enough for him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Extra long chapter since it was an extra long wait. Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for all the follows. I truly appreciate it AND the reviews.

 **PokeEDoll** \- Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I hope you liked this one as well.  
 **Emeraldandsilver0974** \- Hoping to update more frequently now that I have access to my laptop again.  
 **insecure-author** \- Thanks! There is much more to come. I have several future chapters in the works already.  
 **riaroo400** \- You beat me to the reveal in this chapter. Hope this helps explain the letter situation.  
 **Guest** \- Thank you! And thank you for your continued reviews.  
 **thegrangermalfoy** \- I'm glad. More dramione goodness and some special flirting to come next chapter!  
 **Sage McMae** \- It's going to lead to something fun very very soon!  
 **claxiere** \- Sorry for the long wait. Hope you liked this update.  
 **lasvegasskye** \- You'll just have to wait and see.


	7. You

**Chapter 7: You  
**

The instant Granger had thrown herself into him, he felt his entire world shift. All of his anger had dissipated. He felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. He felt lighter, as if all his concerns about his parents, about obtaining the required grades, about becoming a model citizen were gone. The only thing he was aware of was the witch pressed against him and the fact that he never wanted her to be anywhere else. When he had wrapped his arms around her small frame, he felt how perfectly they fit together - two halves of a whole.

He wasn't sure how long they had stood there like that. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Eventually her weeping had turned into a soft whimper until she was as silent as him. Then, ever so steadily, she picked her face off of his shoulder, staring up at him. The second their eyes locked together he felt his heart skip. Even after crying, she was gorgeous. Her face was red and puffy, eyes rimmed with the remnants of shed tears, but none of that could hide her beauty.

Watching her look up at him, no walls, no barriers between them, made him hope. He wished desperately she could see in him something worthy, something to keep her standing there in his arms. She had been the only person to accept him as he was. As terrible as he had been in the past to her, despite all of his ill-fated decisions, against everyone else most likely telling her what a worthless specimen he was, she was here. With him. She didn't look afraid. She didn't even appear to look sad anymore. Her expression mirrored his own. It was as if they were seeing each other, truly seeing each other, for the first time.

A rapping at the portrait startled them both.

Instinctively, Draco dropped his arms and took a step back. He saw Granger flinch slightly, before recovering and taking her wand out. She waved it before her, clearing up her face immediately and removing all tear stains from her garments. Then, pausing for a split second, she did the same to his robes. All signs of her disappeared from his clothing.

"Hermione?" a voice called through the door, before the rapping started up again.

"Coming Gin."

Granger stepped out of their Common Room to meet with her friend, leaving him staring at the spot that had just been damp with her tears. Draco took it as his cue to get ready for the feast, retreating to his bedroom.

He had dozens of dress robes for all sorts of occasions. Halloween was a critical holiday in the Wizarding World, especially to Pureblood families. He had made sure to back a special set of black robes for the feast. As he removed them from his wardrobe, he hesitated. As Head Boy, it was expected of him to be at the feast. However, after the events of the afternoon, he had no interest in going. Potter and Weasel were not his favorite people. He was less inclined to be sociable to them after seeing the state Granger was in. His anger from earlier crept back. Noticing how his hands were tensing, he returned his robes and closed his wardrobe. He would not be going to the feast.

Draco decided to go for a walk. The day had brought about a vast mixture of emotions. He was unsettled and, as such, was in no mood for a celebration. Instead, he needed to get some air and put some distance between himself and the witch who had him perturbed. He waited by his bedroom door until he he heard her come back. Once she was in her own chamber, he exited.

He didn't have a plan on where to go. Students passed him by without a second glance. The hallways were bustling with traffic headed towards the Great Hall. Draco turned to head outside onto the grounds. He walked out toward the Whomping Willow, passing the Greenhouses on his way. He didn't focus on any particular thing. He allowed his mind to wander as he ventured further and further out.

Finally, he came to the edge of the Black Lake. The dark abyss mirrored the star studded sky above. The opposite shore was so far away that it blended into the night creating the impression that the lake was endless. Endless like all the thoughts racing through his mind. He sat down on the bank, taking in the silence and the cool night air. The darkness scared some, but not him. To him it was comforting, a blanket of secrecy to hide the impossible longing he was feeling.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Ginny pulled Hermione into a hug the minute she left her dormitory.

Hermione nodded. "I'm fine." Ginny released her and she noticed her friend was alone. "Where's Harry?"

"Oh, he and Ron are having a row in the Gryffindor dorm," Ginny snickered. "I think they scared the pants off a second year who was studying when they first got in. No one else has even bothered to enter since."

"Harry's not one to lose his temper," Hermione commented, half-heartedly. Her thoughts were not on her friends, rather they were on a certain silver-eyed Slytherin.

Right before Ginny had come to the Head's dorm, Hermione had been caught in his gaze. His eyes had always had a cold glaze over them. Just now, that coldness was gone. She believed she saw the real Draco Malfoy in that moment. He wasn't the arrogant, mean-spirited, instigating Pureblood he had been in the past. No, the man she saw in front of her was broken, fragile, and looking for comfort - same as her. He hid it well. His constant need to have the last word in, remain untouchable in front of others was intimidating. But she had seen through it. There was more to him beyond his cold, calculating facade.

"Ron better count his lucky stars that he's hearing it from Harry and not my Mum." Ginny continued, unaware of Hermione's indifference to the conversation. "She's lively to blow up part of the house when she finds out. He's barmy"

Hermione remembered second year when the boys had missed the Hogwarts Express. Mrs. Weasley had been enraged that time as well. They had left her alone on the train back to school. Given how the rest of that year had gone, she had forgotten about her trip. Now, she recalled the details of that afternoon more clearly. Prior to departure, she had told Neville, Seamus, and Dean that she was saving the seats for Harry and Ron. She didn't really know Ginny yet, but that didn't matter because the youngest Weasley was getting the grand tour from her older brothers. She had been reading one of her favorite novels, "Pride & Prejudice", alone in her compartment when he had walked in. At first, she prepared herself for him to snarl out an insult. However, he simply motioned to the empty seat across from her. At her nod, he had sat there for the remainder of the ride, silently reading a Quidditch magazine.

"I'll have you know that I didn't help him pick out that ring. Neither did Harry. If either of us had any idea of what he was planning, well we would have tossed him in St. Mungo's."

By itself, it didn't mean anything. They hadn't uttered a single word to one another on the train. It was hardly worth mentioning to Harry or Ron. After their impromptu entrance that year, she had completely forgotten about it. Given this evening's turn of events, she tried taking a deeper look at her memories of the blonde-haired boy. Harry had been dubbed "The Boy Who Lived", a title which he had never asked for. In similar fashion, she felt Malfoy was "The Boy Without a Choice." There was a fear hidden behind his eyes, a debilitating fear that could be the reason for his callused actions.

"I don't know what's gotten into him. He's been so hell-bent on this fame kick that..." Ginny trailed off, as she realized Hermione wasn't listening. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you are alright?"

"Yes, yes of course," Hermione quickly nodded. "Are the boys still planning on coming to the Halloween feast?"

"Yes," Ginny groaned. "McGonagall asked them to make an appearance."

"I understand."

"I could hex Ron," she offered, a devious glint in her eyes.

Hermione felt her lips curl up in a small smile. "Thanks, Gin, but I'm going to have to face him at some point. He is your brother."

She shrugged. "Eh, well it's not as if I don't have fiv-four," she caught herself, twitching slightly at the mistake, "others."

It was Hermione's turn to hug her friend. "Fred will always watch over you."

"Yeah," Ginny giggled softly. "He would have made one hell of a ghost."

"He would have," Hermione agreed. "Peeves would have some heavy competition"

"Yeah," Ginny said again, her eyes no longer focused on anything in the present. "Yeah."

The two stood quiet for a short whilte. It had not yet been a year since the war had ended and the wounds from it were fresh. As if the castle sensed their pain, there was a stillness to the hallways. No sounds of other students filtered down the stone corridors. The air was stale.

"We should probably get ready for the feast, that is, if the boys haven't killed each other."

"Well, if Voldemort couldn't do it, I doubt Ron will have any luck," Ginny flashed a cheeky grin, returning to her normal self.

"Thanks for coming to check on me, Gin." Hermione gave her one last quick hug, before agreeing to meet her and the boys down at the Great Hall. With a wave, she went back inside the Head's dormitory.

Malfoy was no longer in the common area. She assumed he was getting changed, which was what she needed to do. Hermione entered her bedroom, heading directly to her wardrobe. She scanned through several outfits hanging up, before pulling out the one she had her mind set on. Setting it down on her bed, she stepped back staring at the black gown. She had bought it specifically for Halloween. She had planned on going as Elphaba from Gregory Maguire's "Wicked" at least once, whether it be here or back in the Muggle world. She had even purchased a new witches' hat in Diagon Alley before the start of the term to complete the ensemble. She believed it made the outfit more authentic.

Her mood had not fully recovered from Ron's outburst. Even after she had had a good long cry about it, the pain refused to let up. She was not sad that her and Ron were over as a couple. She was sad she was losing her best friend. Regardless of if they were together romantically or not, she had always believed they would remain friends and stay close. That no longer seemed to be a viable option. Ron's words had cut into her. He had succeeded in his plan to isolate her - not in the way he originally intended. He had isolated her from him. She had no interest being anywhere near him. Truthfully, as much as she appreciated that Ginny and Harry were on her side, she had no interest in being around anyone in her current state. _**  
**_

_Except Malfoy._

She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she recalled how she had collapsed into him. Hermione chastised herself for being so careless in her actions. She was not that girl. She didn't get all emotional in front of people, especially people she barely knew. Draco Malfoy didn't care if she was heart broken. He didn't care if she had ended things with Ron. He was probably in his chamber now, having a good laugh at how easily she had fallen apart in front of him.

As she berated herself, she remembered how tenderly he had held her. He had not uttered a single word to her. He had simply held her as she cried. His arms had been strong, but warm and surprisingly gentle. She could still detect the scent of his cologne on her robes. He smelled like citrus with notes of bergamot, sage, white musk and amber. It was light enough that it didn't over power her senses, but she found herself inhaling the fabric deeply to get another whiff of the scent. As she did, she registered the time, noting that she had to hurry.

Harry and Ron were guests of Hogwarts for the feast, an event that she was required to attend as Head Girl regardless of her personal feelings. She went into her private bathroom, changing into the dress. She said a quick charm to turn her skin green, unsure if anyone without Muggle roots would understand the significance. She didn't care. Everyone knew her as Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of the age and one third of the Golden Trio. There was a hefty weight of expectations that came with that. A weight that suddenly she felt the need to offload.

Perhaps it was the fact that her future had been altered so suddenly by turning down Ron's proposal. Or perhaps it was solely because she was tired of being coined the "good girl." She would wear her complete outfit to the feast. If someone didn't approve of it, let them trifle with her. Grinning at herself in the mirror, she quoted Jane Austen, "Angry people are not always wise." She could attest to that. Grabbing her hat, she placed it upon the top of her head, gave herself a final once-over, and strolled out.

Ginny and Harry were standing together by the doors when she arrived. Harry opened his mouth to say something as he saw her approaching. Ginny jabbed in the ribs with her elbow. Hermione didn't bother to comment on the act. She allowed them to link arms with her, one on each side, and guide her inside. She spotted Ron sitting at the front of the room with the professors, animatedly talking. Hermione felt relief knowing he would be far to busy chatting to bother her. She suspected Harry may have had his hand in the seating arrangement.

The Great Hall was decorated with the traditional floating jack-o-laterns, a stormy night sky, and black banners from the rafters. The air was crisp and cool, the perfect fall time weather. The tables were covered in various offerings such as carrot cake, apples, roasted turkey legs, and candies from Honeydukes. Even the pickiest of eaters would have a hard time not finding something worth salivating over. Unfortunately, she was anything but hungry. She scanned the room to search for the Head Boy. He was not at his normal spot near the edge of the Slytherin table. In fact, she couldn't locate him anywhere in the room.

"I'll be right there," she told Ginny and Harry, as they prepared to sit down. "Save me a seat."

Thankfully the majority of the students were too busy eating and talking excitedly among themselves to notice her make her way to the Slytherin table. Hermione found Astoria Greengrass sitting with a few other girls her age towards the middle of the table.

"Astoria?"

"Hermione," she greeted her with a happy smile. "Happy Halloween."

"Happy Halloween," Hermione smiled back. "Um," she bit back her bottom lip, unsure how to phrase what she wanted to ask the Prefect.

"Did you need something?" Astoria seemed to sense her unease. She pulled herself away from her friends, moving off to the side of the table to stand next to the Head Girl. "Is something wrong?"

"Have you seen Malfoy tonight?"

"No," Astoria shook her head. "Though to be honest, I rarely see him except for at our meetings. He keeps to himself. Lone wolf, tough guy act."

"Right," Hermione nodded, though she didn't buy that act one bit. "Well, I won't keep you from your friends. Thanks."

She turned on her heel to leave, when she felt Astoria grab her sleeve. "Wait, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"You know," Astoria glanced down at her shoes for a bit, before clearing her throat. "You know, Quinton and I would never have gotten to know each other if you hadn't forced us to work together for the ball."

"Oh." Though she was surprised Astoria as confiding in her, Hermione wasn't shocked by the younger witch's confession. She had noticed the growing relationship between the two. They had come together quicker than she had anticipated, but they had come together. "Good. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. The reason I wanted to tell you that is because," she dropped her gaze again, taking a deep breath. "Well, because if you and Draco are-."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn and her eyes go wide. "No!" She cried quickly. Her outcry had startled a few students around them. She lowered her voice, shaking her head. "No, Astoria. It's not like that. We're just..." She stopped. What were they? Friends? Roommates? The title was indescribable.

"Sorry," Astoria replied quickly, covering her face with her hands, embarrassed. "It's just that you are the only person I ever see him talk to or spend time with. I assumed it was because you two were-."

"No."

"Ok."

"I have to get back," Hermione said, as she noticed Harry and Ginny waving at her from across the Great Hall.

"Sure, but Hermione," Astoria was smiling again. "If you two ever did, you know..." she shrugged, a goofy grin appearing on her face, "well, I would support you two."

Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. So she didn't.

Instead, she walked back to the Gryffindor table completely speechless for one of the first times in her life.

* * *

Draco had lost track of time. Eventually, he decided it was time to return. He needed to formulate an excuse for the Headmistress for neglecting his duties. Crossing the threshold of the castle, he figured taking a small potion to induce vomiting would be the safest course of action. Pomfrey would have to acknowledge his illness. It would surely gain him enough sympathy from McGonagall to avoid any form of punishment.

During his walk back, he came across the corridor he had found Granger crying in during the Yule Ball during their fourth year. Despite his attempts to keep her out of his thoughts, he found himself recalling that evening in complete clarity. Everyone had known she fancied Weasley, except of course, the Weasel. It wasn't until she had attended the ball on the arm of Viktor Krum that the red-headed moron had even taken notice of her. Draco had admitted to himself that evening that she was the loveliest of all the girls in attendance. The moment she had appeared, he had lost the ability to come up with a single jab. He couldn't even glare at her. She had been stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Of course, he had never admitted it to anyone, though Pansy had been particularly annoying that evening. She had picked up on the fact he had been distracted all evening, though thankfully, she never deciphered why.

Weasel was the reason she had been crying when Draco stumbled upon her outside the festivities. He had left the ball in an attempt to avoid his own date. Her sniffling was what alerted him to her presence. Her blue dress was fanned out about her, as she tried to hide slumped down on the floor between two pillars. He had immediately felt drawn to her. Tears and all, she was still the most fantastically beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had looked around, checking to see if any other students were around. Several had been slipping off for "extra curricular" activities throughout the night. Then, once he had determined no one was around, he had had made his way towards her.

Before he could work up the nerve to speak, Viktor had appeared with drinks in hand. "Herm-own-ninny?" he called her in his broken English. Her head had snapped up at the sound of his voice. "Vat is wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," she had wiped at her face, quickly getting to her feet. "I'm fine," she had lied.

Draco had ducked around the corner, quickly leaving the couple to return to the ball. He told himself he had missed out on a golden opportunity to destroy Granger. She had without her typical male escorts and broken. He could have tortured her further. At that point, she would have been so easy to destroy. But he didn't have it in him. Instead, he felt a strange pang in his chest. The sensation had caused him to retire early that evening. He wanted to push the night far from his mind and forget the girl in the blue dress.

As he continued wandering aimlessly through the castle, he wondered what would have happened if he had gone to her that night. Would they have fought? Would he have had the courage to talk to her? Would they have been friends?

Even after fourth year, the youngest Weasley wizard didn't pursue her. Instead, he had shacked up with that twit, Lavendar Brown. She might have been the one witch he found more intolerable than Pansy Parkinson. He had never understood it and it made even less sense now. Over the course of the last couple months, he had grown to know the brown-haired witch. She was still a pain in the ass, but she was far more than the brainy side-kick. If he had been in Weasel's shoes, he wouldn't have wasted another second fawning over a nit like Brown. He would have cut-in on Viktor and...

 _And what?_

He shook his head. And nothing. Because he wasn't Weasel. He was Draco Lucius Malfoy. He hadn't been the knight in shining armor at the Yule Ball. He had been too afraid. His whole life had been lived within the confinements of his parent's expectations and the obligations of Pureblood society. Unlike Granger, he had never questioned anything he had been taught. He had accepted it. He had believed that world was that way because that's how things worked. Everyone around him growing up had been raised the same. He had no reason to believe in anything different. Until he met her.

Granger defied everything he had been taught to believe about Muggleborns. She was beyond worthy of the magic she possessed and she was the most pure soul he had ever met. Despite the constant name-calling, prejudice, and other ruthless behavior towards her, she had risen above it all. She had fought back, defending herself and others like her, who were persecuted for what they were, not who. During the war, when propaganda announced that Muggleborns had stolen their wands and magic, he found the idea ridiculous. To spare himself from enduring another Cruciatus curse from his father, he had never discussed it. However, he found it hard to believe that Little Miss Perfect would ever steal a thing.

Then, as if she knew she was on his mind, she appeared.

* * *

The feast was uneventful. Harry and Ginny expertly avoided the topic of Ron and his proposal all evening. Romilda helped with that. She was star-struck over Harry, the same way she had been when she first met Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. Harry seemed to be pleased to have someone to talk Quidditch with, especially a person who didn't want to discuss the War, his scar, or how he felt the new Minister of Magic was doing. Ron remained up with the Professors, though Hermione did catch him glancing in her direction a few times. She poked around her plate a bit, taking a bit here and there so her friends wouldn't know something was amiss. They knew she was upset. They didn't know the full story regarding why.

As the evening wound down, Ron came to stand by their table. "Harry."

His one word altered his friend to what time it was. "Time to go," the raven-haired boy said.

"I'm going to look into that polish, Harry," Romilda commented. "Thanks for the tips."

"Anytime."

"Do you have to go already?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but I'll write you this week."

"You better."

"Write me too," Hermione told him, giving him a hug goodbye.

"I will," Harry promised, squeezing her. "And this time they will reach you." He added the last part in a softer tone, so only she could hear. "I promise." Releasing her, he turned to Ginny, as Ron remained awkwardly off to the side, waiting. "I love you," Harry gave her a quick kiss and hug, conscious of his two best friends watching.

"I love you too," she replied. "But I am a better Quidditch captain."

"Of course you are, you grew up with it," he teased back.

"We could practice over the holidays," Ginny flashed him a suggestive smile.

"Enough. Sister. Best Friend," Ron snapped, gruffly. His sister shot him an angry glare, making him stalk off towards Hogsmeade station.

"Um, right," Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nervously. "We better get going."

"See you at the Burrow for Christmas," Ginny waved.

"I'll see you both then," Harry waved to the girls, then he followed Ron out.

"Boys," Ginny smiled, shaking her head, her eyes never leaving Harry. "How are you feeling?"

"As well as can be expected," Hermione answered honestly.

"Do you want me to walk with you back to your dorm?"

"No, you need your rest, being the best Quidditch captain and highest scorer."

Ginny giggled. "Thanks, Mum." Stretching her arms over her head, Ginny yawned. "But you're right. See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Sure," Hermione answered.

"See you then," Ginny waved, heading off to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione went in the opposite direction, wandering towards the viaduct. She crossed through the courtyard, pausing by one of the arches, to gaze out into the night. There had been a time when she had sat in this spot, commenting to Harry and Ron that 'everything was going to change'. She felt a parallel to that time now. Everything had changed. She was still here, but she was alone. Harry and Ron were off on their own, staring their own lives without her. They were in London, which felt as if it was half a world away, and she was studying, her nose buried in books, as was her nature.

She stood there for an unknown length of time. Her thoughts went from topic to topic, bouncing across unanswered questions, theories, and a couple of spells. Briefly, she wondered if she had been wrong to turn down Ron's proposal. Perhaps they could have mended what was broke between them. That thought quickly turned sour in her mind. Love didn't break. Love was effortless. She had put in a fair amount of effort in their relationship, far more than Ron ever had. There was only so much she could do, if he was unwilling to meet her. A relationship couldn't depend on one person.

Above her, the stars hung in the sky, tiny blimps of light against an otherwise endless sea of black. People may have guessed she was frightened of the dark. She had endured far worse than most her age. Hermione had never been afraid of the dark, even after the war. The night was beautiful. It was the wiping clean of the day prior's canvas. It lead to rebirth, new life, new chances. It held a certain sway, a certain magical power of it's own. It gave way to hope.

"What happened to you, Granger? Eat one too many puking pastilles?"

A voice startled her from her thoughts. Hermione whipped around, noticing Malfoy tucked away in the corner. He hadn't changed, still dressed in his school uniform. His skin looked paler, if that was possible and he was hunched over, twisting his hands in his lap. _Was he hiding?_ She turned back to the view, letting her arms rest on the cool stone. He rose to his feet, coming over to stand next to her.

"It's how my character looks," she explained.

He raised an eyebrow. "Your character?"

"It's from a book."

"Of course it is," he chuckled, shaking his head. Then, after a slight pause, he asked, "Which book?"

"Wicked."

"Never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised," she grinned, before adding, "It's by a Muggle author."

Before she realized what he was doing, he drew his wand. "Communem Statum Revertatur." Her green skin tone vanished until she was back to her normal shade.

"Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Green isn't your color."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She stared at him. First the literal shoulder to cry on and now this. She felt as if the world had gone upside down. Her best friend for over seven years, had betrayed and embarrassed her while her enemy was taking care of her and keeping her company. Then, she recalled what Astoria had said in the Great Hall. Her face immediately went red. She wished her green skin was still present to hide it. The Head Boy was gazing out at the landscape silently. Malfoy had either not noticed or didn't care to mock her.

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"Trick?"

There was genuine surprise in his voice at her question. His actions didn't add up. They had been spending time together lately. It was more than she she'd ever imagined spending with him. He hadn't called her a Mudblood all year, not once. His teasing was more playful, less hurtful. He was less like the Draco Malfoy she knew and more like a friend. _It has to be a ruse, right?_

"What game are you playing?"

"You'll trust me to not let you fall to your death on a broomstick, but I can't be nice to you?"

"Is that what you're really doing?"

"Yes, though apparently not very well."

She crossed her arms over her chest, facing him. "Malfoy."

"Granger." He copied her stance. She ignored his childish effort and continued to study him with a quizzical expression. "Do you want me to take a sip of Veritaserum? Would that set you at ease?"

She made a skeptical face at him. "You're Draco Malfoy. You don't like Muggle-borns, especially ones that are sorted into Gryffindor and beat you at every subject."

"Almost every subject."

"Flying and Muggle Studies cancel each other out," she stated, matter-of-factly.

He gave a short snort. "If you say so, but I think I'm doing better at Muggle Studies than you are with Flying."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

"Get off your high horse!"

"Jealous?"

"Of you?" She raised an eyebrow and forced out a laugh.

"Obviously. I am, after all, undeniably sexy and quite intelligent to boot." He flashed her an over-the-top smile.

"Please." She rolled her eyes, as she moved past him, giving up on trying to figure him out.

He followed her. They walked next to each other not speaking right away. The castle had died down from the earlier celebration. The Great Hall was no longer decorated for the holiday. It had been set back to its normal state with only a few floating candles providing a dim light. The students had been sent to bed after the festivities, due to the normal class schedule resuming in the morning. Hermione noticed Malfoy seemed to be distracted. He was holding his hands stiffly at his sides, sometimes twitching as if he was about to move and then decided against it. He broke the silence first.

"I like your dress."

"You don't have to lie to me," she replied.

"Why would you think I'm lying?"

"Maybe you aren't lying, but you obviously want something."

"That's true," he admitted, as they reached their dorm.

"Ha!" she cried, pointing a finger at him, as they stepped inside. "I knew it."

"I was wondering if we could be...friends."

"Friends?" She repeated, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

Now she was sure she had entered into an alternate universe. Draco Malfoy did not make friends with non-Slytherins and he certainly didn't befriend Muggleborns. This was probably a ploy. He had fallen out of grace with his followers. He was looking for a way to resume his position as the Prince of Slytherin. Pranking the Head Girl, a Gryffindor, was the perfect recipe to solidify his standing.

"A favor for a favor?" He asked, picking up on her resistance. "I could use one."

The way he said those words made her stop her malicious thoughts. She saw the boy from the train in second year. She heard him warning Harry and Ron to keep her safe at the Quidditch World Cup. She smelled his fear as his aunt tortured her on the floor of his childhood home. _The boy who had no choice_ , she thought. Hermione believed in second chances. She had asked Malfoy for help on how to fly and he had kept up his end of the bargain. He had given her no reason to not trust him this year. It would be wrong of her to turn him away based on his past actions, especially after he had comforted her.

"Friends." She held out her hand.

"Friends," he agreed, taking her hand and shaking it.

"Alright then," she smiled. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

"Goodnight, Granger."

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow! The response on the last chapter was crazy! Thank you all. Whether you follow, fav, or review, I sincerely appreciate it. This is my first story in over 2 years and your support has been the reason I've continued instead of letting this go unfinished. Thank you!

 **Guest** \- Ever since I discovered Dramione, Ron is an ass (to me anyway). This is for you: image/12912026449  
 **NikeCeleste13** \- No one makes _his_ Granger cry.  
 **Rayah19** \- You are awesome. Repeat. Awesome! Thank you for all your feedback and support for this story.  
 **insecure-author** \- Glad you enjoyed it. As promised, there will be more lovely details forth coming in the following chapters.  
 **SavingAngel8** \- Hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Their spit-fire back and forth is about to take on a new twist!  
 **KangBoRam** \- Please don't drop your phone! :) But I'm glad it made an impact. Hopefully the end of this chapter didn't have you dropping anything as important as your phone.  
 **lasvegasskye** \- Here you go, love!  
 **Elsa007** \- Your review is so sweet! Thank you. And yes, he is ABSOLUTELY going to get protective. I already have Chapter 8 and 9 partially written. You will see just how protective he is of his Granger.  
 **Abooknerdandproud** \- Thank you for the review. I'm happy to know you liked it.  
 **Sage McMae** \- Draco's Muggle Studies aren't over yet! Stay tuned for more fun with Muggle inventions.  
 **Elovie** \- Thank you very much. I'm trying to update quicker. I have a jumpstart on multiple chapters.  
 **Guest (2)** \- I'm glad you approve. I hope to continue writing something worth your praise.  
 **Ren Mashiro** \- Thank you. That means more to me than you can possibly know.  
 **caprubia** \- Thank you for all your feedback. I appreciate when people explain to me why they feel how they feel regarding the choices I've made on content.  
 **pgoodrichboggs** \- I'm happy you enjoy my decision for them to teach each other. I honestly believe that's one of the best parts of Dramione. They each are such strong characters but they each need something the other has.  
 **ktester2016** \- Thank you. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter even more!  
 **Visiteur** \- Your review was very touching. Thank you!  
 **CosmoWolf** \- Thank you. I love them as a couple, but there are years of "unlearning" so-to-speak that they need to get by first.  
 **kurisutiin-chan** \- There will most definitely be more jealous Draco coming your way. Thanks for the review!  
 **nellaine824** \- You are very sweet. I'm not a Ron fan either obviously.  
 **.** \- I'm glad you approve of the twist. There will be more to come!


	8. Beautiful Disaster

**Chapter 8: Beautiful Disaster  
**

The next morning, Hermione spent more time getting ready than she normally did. She took time to smooth out her hair, using her own mixture of Sleekeazy and Muggle hair products. It had been a summer project one year. Though it had been more for fun and research, she was glad she had mastered an "antidote" for her frizz-fest that was called hair. Being able to style herself had given her a level of self-confidence she hadn't possessed in her younger years when it came to outward appearances. Typically, Hermione was more concerned about what was in someone's head and their heart, however, this morning she felt the urge to look extra nice. Giving herself a final once over in the mirror, she decided she actually did look quite pretty. The touch of makeup she had applied enhanced the chocolate flavor of her eyes and the hint of color she had placed on her lips made they appear fuller. She had never considered herself a beauty like Ginny or Fleur, but she was pleased with her result.

She waited for her roommate. Now that they were officially friends, she didn't see a reason for them not to walk together to the Great Hall each morning. When he exited his bedroom, she beamed. He was wearing his school robes, same as any other day, but today he looked better. His hair seemed to shine with a new healthy glow, which contrasted against the dark colors of his clothes and made the emerald of his house colors more vibrant. It was clear he had had a good night's sleep. The dark rings under his eyes had lessened and his head wasn't hanging down. There was a change in Malfoy, a lightness to his movements, as if a huge weight had been removed from his shoulders. He smiled back at her and together they wished Glanmore a good day and departed.

"The Practice Pitch is available this afternoon. Are you up for another flying lesson?" He asked as they walked down to breakfast.

"Won't one of the house teams be using it?"

"We're in luck. Weaselette scored the full pitch for today's practice."

"Weaselette? Can't you call her Ginny?"

He pretended to think it over for a minute, before shaking his head. "Doesn't have quite the same ring to it."

"You're never going to get any friends acting like that."

"I don't need any other friends. I have you; a one witch army."

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at that. His words were so effortless and honest. She glanced over at him. He was smiling to himself. It had been years since she had seen him look so content. The way his lips turned up and the light in his eyes altered his normally dreary appearance. The dark brooding Draco Malfoy was gone. He had morphed into a satisfied, nearly cheerful version of his former self. Attributing his good mood to their friendship, she tried once again suggesting he reach out to some of his classmates. If he had more friends, he was likely to keep up with his current mood.

"Why don't you try talking to someone at the Slytherin table this morning?"

"Why?"

"For something new." Hermione shrugged, behaving as if it wasn't a big deal. Perhaps if she made it more of his idea than her own, he would heed her suggestion.

"I don't like any of them," he replied. "And none of them like me."

"What about Astoria? She's nice."

He rolled his eyes. "Daphne is a beast. She was always hanging around Pansy. Her younger sister probably suffers the same poor judgement."

"How do you know if you've never talked to her outside Prefect meetings?"

"Case and point, she's dating Flaccus."

"And here I was, wondering why you needed a friend."

"Ha, ha, Granger, very funny."

"Just think about it, ok?" She said pausing before they went into the Great Hall. "See you in Potions?"

"You mean the class formally known as the Slug Club?"

"There is no more Slug Club," Hermione reminded him.

After classes had resumed post the Second War, McGonagall had disbanded private clubs such as Slughorn's due to the favoritism it displayed among the students. The Headmistress prefered to keep all the students on an equal playing field. Many thought it had to due with Kingsley's "Unity" campaign, but Hermione had a feeling it had more to due with the fact that Slughorn had taken an interest in Tom Riddle. It was that interested that had made Slughorn provide the Dark Lord with the knowledge on how to create horocruxes.

"You're still one of his favorites," Malfoy commented. She heard a hint of jealously in his tone. "See you there."

They each headed off to their own house tables. As he walked away, Hermione immediately missed his company. She surreptitiously watched him. He took his normal seat at the end of the table. Though she was both delighted and surprised that he had extended the olive branch to her, she wasn't sure why he wouldn't do the same for others. His ability to look beyond their past history and her blood status, showed how much he had matured as a person. She knew if others could see him as the thoughtful, funny wizard he was, he'd have no issue making lasting friendships with those around him. She just couldn't understand why he didn't want that.

"Morning," she greeted her friends. Ginny smiled and Romilda gave a quick wave, before turning back to a conversation further down the table. Sitting down next to Ginny, Hermione noticed Romilda was talking to a witch she recognized from their year.

"Who's that?"

Ginny made a face. "Felicity Drehotz."

"You don't like her," Hermione observed.

"Romilda fancies her. She's hoping she'll ask her to the ball, but..." Ginny glanced over at the two girls. "I don't think the feeling is mutual."

"Poor Romilda."

"Felicity is very materialistic and concerned about what others think," Ginny continued, passing Hermione the biscuits for her breakfast plate. "I don't see them together."

"Sometimes opposites attract," Hermione commented, thanking her as she took a fresh biscuit out of the basket.

"Maybe."

The owls began filtering in with the morning mail. Ginny's mood immediately perked up, as a letter with Harry's familiar scrawl descended towards her. Hermione was pleased to find she received one as well. Taking a bit of her biscuit, she unfolded the letter.

 _Hermione,_

 _See, I told you I would write._

 _Hope you are doing alright after yesterdays business with Ron. I had a go at him after we got back last night. He is now avoiding me. I don't want to get in the middle of your relationship. Things already feel awkward. Maybe you both just need some time apart. Once we get a few cases under our belt and you have joined us at the Ministry, things will go back to normal. Ron was never good with change, you know._

 _Ginny tells me that you are learning to fly as part of a new requirement. Let me know if you need any tips. That was probably the only class I ever beat you in.  
_

 _Neville says hi and hopes you'll join us once you ace all your N.E.W.T.S. He also asked if I could pass along a message to Hannah Abbott. (Apparently, he fancies her.) He'd like her to know that since he isn't a student anymore, he won't be allowed to attend the ball but looks forward to seeing her over the Christmas holiday._

 _Hang in there,  
Harry_

She smiled to herself, pleased to know she still had one of her original best friends. Harry was clearly trying to play mediator between her and Ron. She understood his predicament. His two best friends were in a messy quarrel. He was stuck between them, the two people he had grown up with over the last eight years, the same two people who had stayed by him and risked their lives on countless adventures. She didn't want him to be burdened by the situation. Still, Hermione doubted Ron would forgive her for rejecting his proposal. He was very proud and tended to hold a grudge.

A few years back when Viktor had owled her VIP tickets to see one of his games in Bulgaria, she had invited Ron, but he had turned it down, complaining that Viktor obviously wanted something from her if he was sending her such expensive passes. They had gotten into a huge fight about it and she had promptly given the tickets to Seamus and Dean to enjoy in her place. She had had to apologize profusely to Viktor for the incident, which sparked another squabble with her friend. Looking back on it now, she realized how often her and Ron had disagreed.

Maybe Ginny had a point. Maybe opposites didn't always attract. She scanned the room, noticing Astoria and Quinton sitting together at the Hufflepuff table with Doris and Albert. The four were talking happily together and no one was paying them any mind, as if it was natural for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be dating and even more normal for them to be seated at a different house table. As her eyes moved across the room, she stalled on one particular Slytherin sitting by himself at the end of his house table. He had not gotten any mail, though not surprising considering his current family situation. He looked content, though lonely. She wondered if she asked him to sit with her tomorrow morning if he would.

All his movements were purposeful and yet graceful at the same time. Even the way he picked up his knife to apply jelly to his biscuit was one fluid motion. When she watched him fly, she was always in awe of how he could maneuver about the sky without a care in the world. He made it look effortless. Malfoy was skilled. She, on the other hand, was jerk and unsure. Most of the time, she was so stuck in her own mind space that she forgot where she was going or what was around her. She was undoubtedly one of the clumsiest witches in the castle. She recalled how she had fallen the night Malfoy had caught her at the Prefects meeting. It was one example of how ungraceful she could be. She allowed her eyes to linger on him for a moment more, before she started to pen a reply to Harry.

She decided opposites definitely did attract.

* * *

Draco tapped the tip of his quill against his desk. Potions seemed to be dragging along at an agonizingly slow pace. Professor Slughorn was reviewing the difficulty of brewing Felix Felicis. Draco had been studying Potions since his early childhood. Lucius had insisted on it, bringing in private tutors to ensure his son was able to expertly craft several of the most complex (and usually dark) potions known in their world. Liquid Luck had been a potion he had mastered in his fifth year at Hogwarts. He pretended to take notes, while constantly checking the time.

Since he had woken up, he had been waiting for the afternoon. It was a countdown to when classes ended. He had requested the Practice Pitch a few weeks ago, wanting a reason to be able to practice flying with Granger. This morning, he had claimed they could use it because the Gryffindor team was practicing on the actual field. That was only partially true. Weaselette had reserved the official field but only after he had secured the Practice Pitch. Lately, he had been feeling as though the only time that mattered was the time he spent with Granger. All the other moments of the day were a blur, as if he was on auto-pilot.

When their last class of the day, Arithmancy, finally came to an end he could hardly contain his excitement. He just about jogged back to their dormitory to get changed for their changed into his practice gear, making sure to grab his gloves. As he dressed, he wondered what it would be like to fly with Granger. He had no reason to have her ride with him. It was a problem that he had been trying to work out. Since she had willingly embraced him, he wanted to feel that closeness and warmth again. Ideally, he wanted to take her for another flight so he could share more of his world with her while also getting her alone and away from the distractions of the castle. The only issue was that she knew how to fly properly on her own. He had been too good at his teachings. There was no logical reason for her to ride with him. _**  
**_

The castle held too many bad memories for him. Each corridor, classroom, and stairwell reminded him of a time where he had been a different person. The reflections of that boy, because that was what he had been at the time, were painful to relive. He wanted to create new memories, better ones. Being around Granger had that affect on him. She made him want to be good. She didn't even have to say it. Just watching her, hearing her voice, and seeing how kindly she treated him and everyone around them made him yearn to be gracious. If he could become even half as decent as she was, maybe he stood a chance.

He heard the door open, as she returned from class. A minute later, he heard her enter and close her bedroom door, presumably to get changed to meet him. He stood in front of his full length mirror. He had filled out in recent years, building lean muscle with his constant Quidditch playing. During his time at home, he worked out. It was a hobby that kept him busy and away from Lucius, making it a win-win scenario. Without layers of gel in his hair, it had been trimmed to better enhance his strong jawline. Many witches had remarked how handsome he was. Their opinions didn't matter. Only one person's view of him held any weight. Sighing, he stepped out into the common area.

"Ready, Teach?" Granger asked, as she came out. He noticed she was wearing jeans, a jumper, and boots. She was casual in comparison to his more traditional getup. He momentarily contemplated changing. Jeans did look more comfortable.

"Sure," he answered, deciding he was fine the way he was. He didn't want to lose any more time.

"Great!"

"How does Hooch think you are fairing?" he asked, as they walked out of the castle.

"She's been surprised by my abilities, especially since the last time I saw her was first year when I could barely get my broom to adhere to my summoning command."

Draco chuckled as he remembered her attempts. It was one of the only times he had seen her not master a skill right away. The only other time he had seen her so flustered in class was sixth year during Slughorn's potions assignment to create Draught of Living Death. For once, Potter had excelled beyond his best friend, who had appeared so frazzled by the end of class, Draco had thought she might have a breakdown. However, she had been curious and rather interested in the complexity of the potion. As she discussed it with Slughorn and Potter, she had returned to her normal level of Know-It-All status. _**  
**_

"How is Muggle Studies going?"

"Professor Durian has me helping out some of the other students since I'm progress so well."

She flashed him a smile. "Must be due to your excellent tutor."

"Maybe I'm just a natural," he shot back, watching her smile fade. Then a sly grin appeared on her lips.

"Maybe or maybe your father should hear about this," she taunted, bringing up his infamous line from younger days.

"Think you're funny, do you?"

"Very."

"Alright then, you asked for it." He placed his broom down before lunging at her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pick her up and spin her around. He gave her one twirl, then began tickling her mercilessly.

"Malfoy!" she screamed, but she had a hard time getting his name out in between her bursts of laughter.

"Who's funny now?" he asked, not letting her go.

"Y-you! You are!"

"That's right," he agreed smugly, releasing her.

Draco walked over to where he had left his broom, kneeling down to pick it up off the grass. That's when she ran a counter-attack. Granger had probably meant to shove him off balance or at the very least surprise him. What occurred instead was her completely tackling him to the ground. She landed on top of him. Her face planted squarely between his shoulder blames, while he sprawled across the grass.

"Sorry," she apologized, her breath running down his neck and causing him to be unable to think straight. "That wasn't my intention."

"Oh really?" he taunted, rolling over suddenly so she fell into the grass next to him.

She ignored his attempts to get a rise out of her. "If someone would have told me six months ago that I would be here having flying lessons and having tickle fights with you, I would have thought they were under the Imperius curse."

"Likewise, Granger." Smiling, she giggled to herself, running her palms over the grass in front of her. "What?"

"It's crazy, isn't it?"

"What?"

"This. Us. Life."

"I've seen crazy," he told her. "This isn't it." Her face fell slightly at his serious tone. He cleared his throat. "But I'm sure Potter and Weasel would agree with you...after they hexed me into oblivion."

"I don't want to talk about them right now."

Draco felt a surge of satisfaction at her statement. She wanted to talk about him and her, but not her best friends? He had to believe that was a step in the right direction. "Me either."

"So what are we learning today?" she asked, her smile back.

"You," he smirked, "are learning how to dive. Allow me to demonstrate."

Draco mounted his broom. He carefully navigated upwards, above the height they normally flew at, then dipping the broom handle forward began his dive. As he dove, he kept himself in control, dropping slowly from his initial height, so Granger could watch his form and handling. When he was only a few yards above the pitch, he leveled out and came in for a landing.

"Impressive."

"The trick is to take it slow at first, until you are comfortable with how your broom handles. Simple, right?" he asked her. Granger was clutching her practice broom so hard that her knuckles were white. "We could always try something else if you're scared."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not scared."

She brushed past him, purposely colliding her shoulder with his chest. Mounting her broom, she flashing him a daring glare before taking off. Chuckling, he followed. They weaved around each other a couple of times, climbing up to the height he had demonstrated his dive from. Draco had seen the concern in her eyes. He was sure she wouldn't attempt the dive today. Perhaps his problem had an easy resolution. He could suggest that she ride with him on his next dive, so he could not only demonstrate for her, but also get close to her.

He was imagining her arms wrapped around her, her cheek resting on his back as she leaned into him. Or he could make her sit up front and have her steer. That would be better, he grinned to himself. That way he could envelope her body with his, keeping his arms against hers to show her how to maneuver. She'd be very close to him then. He'd be able to breathe in her scent and if he ducked his head down far enough, he could-

"Malfoy!"

Her voice cried out, startling him from his fantasy. The second he saw her plummeting, he was off, begging whatever gods existed that he would get to her before she hit the ground.

* * *

Hermione felt the air striking at her as she hurtled towards the grass. Her screams were ripped from her throat due to the velocity of her descent.

Suddenly, Malfoy appeared, swooping down with open arms that hauled her off her broomstick. Everything happened so fast. One second she was falling, the next he had her in his lap. She pad no attention to the proximity or awkwardness of their positioning. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her body was shaking uncontrollably. She curled her arms around him, clutching to him and burying her face in his chest. He steered them to the start of the Practice Pitch, carefully lowering them to the field.

"What were you thinking, Granger?" he roared, the second their his feet touched the ground.

"I was practicing the dive," she snapped, jumping off his broom to stand next to him.

"You went too fast!"

"I know that now!"

"Were you even paying attention earlier?"

"Of course!"

"Really, then what do I make of that?" he gestured to where the practice broom's shattered remnants were scattered about the lawn.

Hermione felt her adrenaline wearing off. The sight of the destroyed broomstick sobered her. Fear set in retroactively. She knew she had been too high. She had known her angle was off, but she had wanted to prove to him that she was an expert flyer. She had been too stubborn to admit she wasn't ready. When the speed picked up beyond her comfort level, she had froze, unable to pull up. If it hadn't been for Malfoy's quick reflexes, she would have been a crumpled corpse aside of the broom. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying.

"Granger," Malfoy said softly. She dared herself to look up at him. His anger was gone. There was another emotion etched onto his face: Fear. "You could have been hurt."

"I know," she replied quietly, dropping her eyes, feeling ashamed of herself for acting so petty.

"Come here." He let his broom fall to the ground, pulling her to his chest. His left hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her close while the other reached up to tuck her hair back. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead against his chest. She couldn't be sure, but it felt as though he planted a kiss in her hair, before he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Please do not do anything like that ever again," he told her, his words a whisper into her hair. It sounded more like he was begging than demanding.

They stood there together in that position out on the field for some time. Hermione felt her racing heartbeat slow. Her trembling hands calmed. Malfoy began massaging her back. His touch was soothing. It reminded her of when she was a young child and her father had consoled her after a bad dream. He had rubbed her back until she had fallen asleep. There was a familiar comfort to his circular motions. The warmth he expressed coaxed her to pull her face out of his chest so she could look up at him. Malfoy raised his head off her hair, leaning back to see her.

Hermione found them in the same position as they had been in the previous night. _Before Ginny interrupted_ , she found herself thinking, somewhat bitterly. She found her eyes focusing on his lips. They looked smooth, just a light touch of pink. She felt herself being drawn in. There was a slight twisting in her stomach, a rush of excitement, and her arms broke out in Goosebumps. Her attraction to him was becoming an overpowering force. It hampered her mental clarity, causing her to stand paralyzed. At that moment, even if she could have moved, she wasn't sure she wanted to. She wanted to lean in, tilt her face up and taste those lips.

Catching herself in her thoughts, she bit her lip. She couldn't be thinking that. She couldn't be feeling that way toward Draco Malfoy. Less than twenty-four hours ago, her boyfriend had proposed to her and she had turned him down. Now she was already lusting after the Slytherin Prince. _No, Hermione_ , she chided herself, _do not fall for the embodiment of the Bad-Boy type. You're just friends,_ she reminded herself.

"I think that's enough for today," he said, his eyes never straying from hers. His words released her from her frozen state. "Let's head back inside." She nodded wordlessly, following his lead back up to the castle.

Neither noticed the red-haired witch by the equipment shed who had seen the whole exchange.

* * *

 **A/N:** I really struggled with this chapter. I had so many ideas and I kept going back and forth on a few points. I almost have chapter 9 done, so I should be able to update soon if you are all still there...

 **arnoldloveshelga7** \- BTW, I love your handle!  
 **SavingAngel8** \- I did not have a particular cologne in mind, but I'm sure you could Google?  
 **nellaine824** \- I love "For Good". I just went to see Wicked again this summer on Broadway. It's amazing and I felt that Hermione would connect with Elphaba's character.  
 **Richeily Perez** \- Hope this still is stored under your favorites. Thanks for the love from Venezuela!  
 **pgodrichboggs** \- So this wasn't as much hand clenching as it was 'I'll beat you to a bloody pulp for leering at my girl', but I hope it will do :)  
 **Elsa007** \- Hermione was always the adult in the group. I feel it is only natural for her character to have matured after the war. If anyone deserves some peace, it's her.  
 **KariA 16** \- Don't beat me to the punch with your Christmas prediction! We will be seeing one of my favorite (and underrated) secondary characters for that chapter.  
 **caprubia** \- So confession, I wasn't sure what a slow burn was until I looked it up. I've been so out of the fanfic world for the last couple of years. Embarrassing! But yes, it fits that description so that you for the education.  
 **Sage McMae** \- More cuteness coming your way  
 **cmheiney** \- My favorite ship too. And did you see it was Tom's birthday on the 22nd?  
 **lasvegasskye** \- Or as GoGo Tomago would say 'Woman Up'  
 **Rayah19** \- You are welcome! Thanks for the review.  
 **ktester2016** \- Thank you! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last one.  
 **Nichole87** \- Thanks for finding and reviewing this story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	9. It Was Always You

**Chapter 9: It Was Always You**

By the time dinner rolled around, Hermione was feeling better. The scare from her fall had worn off. Despite that, she and Malfoy had agreed to take the night off from their one-on-one lessons in the Room of Requirement. Professor Slughorn had announced a Potions quiz, so they opted to use their evening to study in the library together. She knew everything that the professor could potentially ask. She had read and re-read the text several times already this year. She wasn't interested in the material he would present. She was interested in a certain blonde-haired Slytherin.

Regardless of her attempts to not overthink what had happened, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his stern warning than he let on. They had agreed, not even twenty-four hours before to be friends. Since that time, she had been constantly wondering two things. First, she questioned why it was that she was so captivated by him. Second, she needed to know why he cared so much. Friends or not, he was acting rather protective of her. He watched over her the way Harry and Ron had always guarded her (even though she was far more capable of fending for herself than they were). There was a difference in how he watched her and how Harry and Ron had watched her. He was warm, and at times, flirty. It wasn't the way a friend would act.

It confused her. Ron and her had been friends for so long, it was difficult to determine when or if he had ever openly flirted with her. In fact, up until their seventh year, she wasn't even sure if he considered her a female. He had been rather indifferent. When he had dated Lavender the year prior, it had crushed her, but he had been characteristically unaware of how his actions affected her. Malfoy, on the other hand, was known for his seduction techniques so she was certain he knew what he was doing when he chose to act that way towards her. That confused her even further. As if being friends with a Muggle-born wasn't hard enough to accept, showing an interest in one was out of the question for someone of his family heritage.

Still...there had been a tone to his voice that afternoon. It was a tone she had not heard before. He had been scared. Initially, she had thought it was because she had almost died or been badly injured. Perhaps it was because he wasn't afraid _for_ her, he was afraid _of_ her. His father had made it crystal clear that the union of a Pureblood and anything less was an atrocity. Hermione had misgivings towards Lucius Malfoy, however she knew that he was Malfoy's father. Family ties were near impossible to break entirely, especially in an intimate unit such as the Malfoys. She could understand the Head Boys hesitation around her, if he was feeling more than friendship.

How much more was the next question. As she sat at the Gryffindor table, she could hardly contain her grin. She was in her own little world, oblivious to her best friend's knowing gaze. "What's going on with you and Malfoy?" Ginny asked, bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"He's a tosser to everyone else, but when it comes to you, he's-." She cut herself off, thinking through her choice of words. "Friendly."

"We're friends," Hermione stated, simply.

"Right," Ginny responded sarcastically. "Does this have anything to do with yesterday afternoon on the practice pitch?"

Hermione's face fell. Instinctively, she glanced across the Great Hall to where Malfoy was sitting, ignorant of their conversation. He had a textbook opened in front of him, as he ate. Hermione hadn't realized anyone had seen them, let alone her ex-boyfriend's younger sister. She wondered how much of their interaction from yesterday Ginny had witnessed. Recalling how tenderly Malfoy had held her after rescuing her, she blushed.

"Ah, so it is more than friends, then. Thought so."

"Ginny, don't be ridiculous. He is only helping me learn how to fly."

"I could have helped you," Ginny pointed out, looking slightly offended.

"Really?" Hermione questioned, giving her a 'yeah-right' look. "If memory serves, I did come to you first."

"Ok. Ok, I've been busy with the team and my Prefect duties, but still, Hermione, I'm your best friend and the captain of our _winning_ ," she emphasized the word, "house Quidditch team."

"I know and I love you." Hermione returned to her breakfast, hoping Ginny would drop the subject. Unfortunately, the youngest Weasley was far to stubborn to let it be.

"So Malfoy, huh?"

"He didn't let me fall." The Head Girl replied, as if that explained everything.

"From the broom, but that's not the only falling you're in danger of."

Hermione couldn't hold back the flush that lit up her cheeks at the suggestion. She blushed again. "He's a good teacher," she said in an attempt to cover up her reaction.

"I bet. What else is he teaching you?"

"Just flying, Gin. That's our deal."

"You are attracted to him."

Hermione couldn't muster up the words to either confirm or deny. On one hand, she didn't want to lie to her friend, but on the other hand, Ginny was Ron's sister. Their breakup was still fresh. She didn't want Ginny getting the wrong idea about her feelings for Malfoy. Though, she wasn't sure how that was possible, since she wasn't even sure what her feelings were. He had been a good friend since their initial blow-up with each other. He had taken care to train her up on flying. She was anticipating that her mid-term wouldn't be a disaster. Madam Hooch had actually been surprised with her degree of improvement and even more shocked when she demonstrated the correct posture for all the moves requested so far. Hermione knew that was all due to Malfoy's teachings. Then there had been that embrace in their dormitory and a second embrace on the Practice Pitch.

"That's not possible."

"No, you aren't or no, you aren't going to admit it?"

"Ginny!"

"Hermione."

"Drop it."

"Fine," Ginny relented, "Please just promise me you'll be careful?"

"He isn't a bad person, Ginny. I know that's hard to believe, but he's been a good friend. Really."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," the red-head took a deep breath, "but I believe you."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"I was feeling guilty about not having as much time to hang out with you as I wanted. I was afraid with the boys not being around, you'd be lonely, but you are so happy. Every time I see you," she shrugged, a smile forming on her face. "I was not sure at first. He's not my favorite person." Hermione laughed. "But he's good for you. He makes you happy."

Hermione put her hand over her friend's. "Thank you, Ginny. It means a lot to me that you understand."

"I do. Just don't act like there is not something going on between the two of you."

"Friends," Hermione insisted.

Ginny's face softened. "Harry and I started as friends."

"I remember."

The Head Girl smiled. She had known for years that Harry fancied Ginny. There had been other flirtations, such as Cho Chang, but Hermione had always known Harry would end up with Ginny. She was his match made in heaven. In her younger age, she had been starstruck by his name, but as he had become more of a family member at the Burrow, that had fallen away. Ginny was one of the few people (other than Hermione) that would call Harry on his bullshit. She was beyond stubborn and fearless. If Harry's parents were still living, she was sure they would accept Ginny immediately. She was a headstrong, independent witch with a knack for getting both in and out of trouble, just like her boyfriend. They were perfect for each other.

In spite of Ginny's attempt to draw a parallel between her relationship with Harry and Hermione's development with Malfoy, Hermione had no misconceptions about her friendship with the Head Boy. It was still new. Unlike Ginny, she hadn't been infatuated with Malfoy from an earlier age. She had found him fetching after he hit puberty, growing several inches, not slicking his hair back anymore, and the lower (and less nasally) sound of his voice. Those were all attractive qualities. She was hardly the only one to fantasize about the Prince of Slytherin. In fact, during sixth year, all the Gryffindor girls had gathered in their bedroom conducting a round of Shag, Marry, Kill. He had been the unanimous candidate for the Shag category. If it hadn't been for his off-putting personality, he would have won the Marry section. No one wanted to be stuck with a twitchy ferret who had daddy issues.

She peeked over at him once more. He had finished eating and was diligently completing an assignment. Then sensing her fixed stare, he caught her. Hermione was flustered and nearly dropped her elbow into her food. He was as smooth as silk, winking at her across the room, an entertained smirk on his face.

 _Arrogant prat._

Hermione began scanning through her bag, checking to make sure she had all her needed. She already knew it was all there, but she was embarrassed that Malfoy had caught her staring. She needed to look busy. As she moved her belongings in the bag around, she replayed the afternoon yet again. Hermione had a theory. She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss Malfoy had placed on the top of her head. It was the main point her thoughts had centered on all day. She was convinced that it had happened and she was going to try to prove it. When they went to the library to study, she was going to purposely leave her wand at their desk and try something to get his attention to see if he would do the uncharacteristic Malfoy thing and help her.

All she had to do now was wait until it was time to put her plan in motion.

* * *

Draco had been looking forward to their Potions study session. He had caught Granger watching him from across the Great Hall at dinner and he had every intention of grilling her about it. They had selected a table near the back of the library, where it would be quieter. He let Granger lead the way, knowing this was her sanctuary. As suspected, she took her seat and promptly began pulling out all her Potions notes.

"No foreplay?"

"Malfoy," she cautioned, "Some of us take our academic careers seriously."

"I take my foreplay seriously."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Sometimes you can be so nice and then other times you are so-."

"Charming?"

"Crass."

"Did you say I have a nice ass? Why, thank you Granger!" He watched as her organized papers slipped from her hands. Frazzled, she rapidly put them back in order. "You find me attractive. Just admit it, Granger."

"I will do no such thing."

"You fancy me. I saw you ogling me at dinner. Don't be embarrassed," he chuckled. "Lots of women do."

"I only fancy humble men," she retorted, paying no attention to his dinner comment.

He scoffed. "Humble men are boring." Noting how she had her nose buried in her textbooks, trying to ignore him, he smirked. He was going to push her buttons until he got the response he was looking for. "But I guess that's right up your alley, huh? A boring man for a boring bookworm."

"Excuse me?"

"If the shoe fits," he leaned back in his seat, propping his feet up on the desk.

"I am not boring."

He feigned a yawn. "That's exactly what I knew you'd say. No imagination."

"Would a girl with no imagination cast the Confundus charm on Cormac?"

"McLaggen?" Malfoy chuckled. He hadn't expected that. McLaggen was well connected. He wasn't part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but his family held great influence in the wizarding world. Malfoy had crossed paths with both him and his father on a few occasions. He had never cared for the bloke. He liked him less after he had heard he was involved with Granger. Remembering sixth year, he returned her question with another question. "Didn't you take him to The Slug Club Christmas Party?"

"Don't remind me," she groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

"Why did you spell him?"

"He was bad-mouthing Ron at the Keeper try-outs and even though we were fighting, Ron deserved to be the Gryffindor Keeper."

If he had seen the girl he cared for interested in another and she needed help with an assignment, he would have let her fend for herself. He wouldn't have lost any sleep over it. In fact, he probably would have just found another girl to shag to get the former out of his mind. He didn't maintain ties to those who crossed him. He wondered how Granger would feel if he told her how he snogged Parvati Patil, which was the reason her brief friendship with Pansy ended.

She was intelligent enough to be in Ravenclaw. It was clear her loyalty was what had separated her from the braniacs in that house. She was true to the end. Weasley didn't deserve her friendship or her help. He only exploited her for what she could give him. Draco wondered if the ex-Keeper even knew what his friend had done for him. He would have given anything to have a friend half as loyal, especially this year when he had lost all his friends and family due to the war.

"You are the most loyal of the Gryffindors," Draco told her. He meant it.

"Maybe," she shrugged.

"If you ask me, you should have used it on both Weasel and McLaggen. It would have saved you a lot of trouble."

The moment he said it, he realize he had gone too far. Granger's entire body language changed. She stiffened. Her eyes flashed with anger. "Malfoy, you...you ass!" She slammed her book shut, walking off in a huff.

Draco leapt out of his chair, not caring that it tipped over onto the floor as he did. He had to run to catch up with her. She was fuming. When he reached her, he caught her arm. She stopped, a disappointed expression on her face.

"Where are you going?"

"My room."

"What about studying together for Slughorn's Potions quiz?"

"I'll do it by myself."

"Come on, Granger." He reached out with his other hand, trapping her between himself and a bookshelf. He leaned his face closer to hers. "I was only teasing."

"I am not amused," she remained with her arms crossed against her chest, her eyes narrow slits as she glared at him.

"What can I do to make it up to you?"

Granger rubbed her lips together as she thought about it. He tried to not look at her mouth and failed. His eyes ran over her subtle lips. He found it challenging to concentrate. He had never experienced that when wooing a witch before. Draco had always been in control. It was something his parents had both emphasized to him throughout his development. He had seen the way they commanded a room simply by walking into it. He had tried to emulate their personas. It worked well with the ladies, often earning him their trust and submission. Not Granger.

"I get to call you 'Ferret' all week and you have to call my friends by their real names. No more of this 'Weaselette' business."

"But-."

She silenced him with with one look. Of course he couldn't expect her to fall for any of his normal tricks. Granger was unique. As such, she had turned the tables on him and she didn't even know what she had done. She was completely oblivious of the affect she had on him. He needed to keep it that way. _Get yourself together, mate,_ he told himself.

"Fine," he pouted.

"Great! Let's get back to studying." She ducked under his arm, marching back to the library straight away.

He followed, pleased he had been able to convince her to come back with him. Draco took the seat across from her. As she sat down, she reopened her book to the same page she had been on prior to their spat. Then, as if remembering something, she turned to her bag. She rummaged around through her scrolls, evidently looking for something. When she came up empty, she strolled over to one of the nearby shelves, searching the titles inscribed on the spines.

Draco watched wordlessly from where he sat as Granger rose to her tip toes, reaching for one of the books. She was obviously unaware of how her skirt shifted with her motions, lifting up so that it hung just below the round curve of her bottom. He couldn't take his eyes off her legs, so lean and smooth leading up to meet underneath her clothes. Her back arched just slightly so she could angle her face up to read the title. Her stretched out body, extending forward made him wish for impossible things.

He felt as if he was coming undone at the seams. First her lips and now this? What was a teenaged wizard to do? He had needs and right now they all wanted to be satisfied by Hermione Granger. Suddenly, he felt warm and his mouth felt dry. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his collar to open up his shirt. Draco considered ducking out to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. That was when he saw a table of sixth year Hufflepuffs across from him. He had not been the only one to notice Granger. The younger wizards were all talking in hushed tones together, but their eyes were unblinking and focused on the Head Girl. One with dirty blonde hair made a comment that sent the others into a frenzy. Draco clenched his jaw, his hands balling up into fists.

He slammed his book shut in front of him, before getting up and storming over to the Hufflepuffs. He banged his fists down on the table top, startling them all.

"Bloody hell!"

"You'd do well to keep your eyes in your books," Draco growled.

"Sod off," the dirty blonde snapped.

"If I catch you looking at her like that again, I'll give you a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson you won't soon forget."

"Go ahead, Death Eater."

Draco grabbed the boy by his robes, yanking him up out of his seat before his friends or him knew what was happening. He raised him up with one hand, while the other retrieved his wand from his pocket. He pointed the tip of it against the boys chest. The commotion caught the Head Girl's eyes. She was at his side before he could mutter a single incantation.

"Malfoy, what in the world?" She sounded more surprised than mad.

He didn't take his eyes off the boy. His gaze menacing and the threat still lingering in the air between them.

"Draco." She tried again, placing a hand on his arm.

His eyes flickered to hers. She was staring right into him. He couldn't know what she saw there. What he saw in the mirror frightening him sometimes. He half expected her to bore into him and discover all of his excessive thoughts of her. That would surely frighten her away. When she didn't so much as blink, his glare disappeared. He sighed and loosened his grip dropping the Hufflepuff back into his chair.

"He's out of his mind." The boy tried to gain symphony from Granger. She wasn't having any of it.

"Get out of here now," she hissed. "If you aren't all packed up and out of my sight by the time I count to three it will be 50 points from Hufflepuff." They sat frozen in their seats, shocked by her words. "Each." Instantly, they all starting grabbing for books, quills, and other items before darting out of the library. The small crowd of students who had been onlookers to the situation, all turned back to their work, not wanting to anger the Head Girl any further. But she wasn't done. Her touch on his arm turned into a grip, as she slid her hand from his arm to his wrist. She moved to stand directly in front of him.

"Malfoy, are you going to explain?"

"No."

The remaining students who had been studying were now eyeing him cautiously. "They're all scared of you," she stated in a quieter voice, scanning the room.

"Good. They should be."

Draco yanked his wrist out of her grip. He walked past her and went back to their desk. He took his seat, ignoring her questioning eyes and continued with his Alchemy homework. Persistently, she followed, taking the seat across from him. He tried his best to glare at her, but she stuck out her tongue at him. "I'm not afraid of you."

He noted she had with her the book she had been struggling to get. Reading the title upside down, he realized it was for their Arithmancy assignment. She followed his example, ignoring him, as she opened up a blank scroll to complete the assignment. Though he knew he should be working, he found himself peering up at her. She went through a few pages, line by line, as if the altercation that had occurred only moments before had never happened. Her focus had switched to the task in front of her. He scanned her face for any signs of annoyance or distress, but she seemed to be completely at ease. Meanwhile, he was still wrestling with the reality of what he had just done.

She had told him that she had refused Weasel's proposal, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling to her left hand. It was bare. He scolded himself inwardly for even searching. He knew she wasn't engaged. He knew she had ended things with the ginger, but it didn't change anything. He didn't deserve her. He sighed, knowing he needed to get back to his own work.

They sat in silence for several moments, as he continued to attempt to study. Then, Draco saw Granger get up. She hadn't packed up her belongings, so he assumed she was going after yet another text. He noted her scroll was completed and already tucked into her bag. His eyes followed her as she headed toward the back corner of the library. He was keenly aware of how her hips swayed ever so subtly. He felt his longing return. Shutting his book for a second time that afternoon, he went after her.

Granger was halfway down an aisle on the right side. He cleared his throat as he joined her. She didn't have a book in hand. Instead, she turned around, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at him.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Her question caught him off-guard. Had she known he would follow? Granger regarded him from her spot, watching him expectantly. After spending much of the term with her, he doubted his ability to lie to her. People didn't label her the brightest witch of their age without reason. She was keen to pick up on things. He was positive she would call him out on any half-truths or deceptions he created. Draco gave her an honest answer.

"I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

She raised an eyebrow. It was clearly not the answer had been expecting. "Since when do you care about how people look at me?"

"Since now."

She rolled her eyes. "I thought we were friends. Friends are honest with each other."

"You want me to be honest with you?" he asked her, feeling his frustration leak into his voice. First the flying fiasco, then the Hufflepuff moron, and now this? She was really starting to put him on edge. And she was beginning to get the better of him. "How is this for honesty? I'm glad you ended things with the Weasel. He didn't appreciate you. He never did."

"Ron appreciates me."

"Oh really? Is that why he didn't ask you out until you both almost died?"

"I didn't tell him how I felt either."

"A real man would make the first move."

"A real man?"

"Weasley survived the war. I'll give him that, but that doesn't make him anything special. Lots of people survived."

"Lots of people didn't."

"That's life."

"That's war."

"He never was at the same level as you or Potter. You two are the only reason he made it."

"You're just saying that because you hate Ron."

"That's true," he admitted. "I've hated him since fourth year."

"Fourth year?"

"I never liked him, but that was the year he made me jealous. That was the year I started to loathe him because he made you cry." She froze, her eyes widening at what he was saying. "You were the most beautiful girl at the ball. You deserved to have a night as beautiful, but he had to ruin it and then you let him do it all over again."

She tried to recover, questioning him further. "Why do you care?"

"I shouldn't, but I do. You read more than any person I know and sprout useless facts about everything under the sun. You are more intelligent than you give yourself credit for and more cunning. You always think the best of people, no matter how they treat you. You give them more chances than they deserve. You are a complete pain in the ass, and..." he shook his head as he trailed off.

The tension hung in the air around them, static sparking in the void like lightning announcing a coming storm. The silence became deafening. Draco watched her watching him. He had gone too far. He knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.

"And you're all I think about. These past few weeks, the only time I feel alive, the only time I feel like I even exist is when I'm with you. Classes, Head Boy duties, even Quidditch...none of it matters. None of it registers if you aren't around. I should hate you for that. I should want to get myself as far away from you as possible. But I don't, I-."

Draco stopped ranting and placed his mouth over hers. He hadn't been planning on kissing her. Part of him knew it was insane. They were in the middle of the library where anyone could see or hear. He knew she had cried about her breakup the night before. That fact alone should have kept him from acting on his impulse. The last thing he needed was for the Weaselette, Potter, and Weasel to all come after him. He could only imagine the number of hexes they would try to place on him when they found out. The other part of him told the first part to go to hell. _She will be the death of me_ , he thought. _And I don't care._

She was tense at first, startled by his advanced. He gently placed his hands on either side of her. She lowered her arms, allowing him to get closer. Her lips were soft and warm. She tasted like cinnamon and apples. He felt her raise her arms. At first, he stiffened, concerned she may be preparing to punch him the way she had in third year. Then he felt her run her fingers through his hair, gently pulling him down closer to her. Her lips moved delicately against his, carefully testing the waters. Invigorated by her touch, he raised his hand to her chin, tilting her head back ever so slightly. He delved deeper, running his tongue over her lips. She let out a tiny sigh against him.

Her exhale stimulated him. He resisted the urge to press her back against the shelves and dip his hands under her shirt. Heat swept across his body.

Slowly, he pulled back. Granger was searching his face, confused but not angry. Staring into her big, brown doe eyes, he considered finishing what he had begun to say before he kissed her. Sod Weasel and Potter. He was a Malfoy. There was nothing out of his reach, no object that he couldn't obtain one way or another. His name, however tarnished now, still had power. It could still open doors. He wasn't going to let her friends get in the way. If he wanted something, he got it.

But Granger wasn't a thing. She had made that clear to her ex-boyfriend. She would certainly not appreciate him treating her the same way. No, she was different. She wasn't like other witches. She was special. She deserved to be treated special. He had never been one for girlfriend/boyfriend titles. Usually his relationships were for one purpose and one purpose only. They rarely lasted long and they only briefly involved kissing. Speaking of kissing, there was the fact that Granger had kissed him back. That had to count for something, right? He noticed she was still looking up at him. She appeared almost hopeful. He lost control again, his words coming out before he was able to stop them.

"I want you, Granger. I want you to be mine and mine alone." He admitted, never letting his eyes stray from hers. "But I know bloody well that I don't deserve you. So there it is. No teasing. No lies. Maybe you fancy me. Maybe you don't. But I do fancy you...maybe more than fancy."

She didn't move. She didn't speak. She only listened, her eyes locked on his eyes. He felt as if she was staring into the very depths of his soul. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. For a minute, time stopped. As if he had tunnel-vision, he focused on her and only her. In turn, she focused only on him. They were caught in an endless loop, embracing one another, each waiting on baited breath to fall over the edge. Draco had been teetering back and forth between acting upon his feelings. He wondered if she had been fighting the same internal battle.

Granger started to speak, when he a familiar voice calling out to her. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain made her way to the back of the library. Granger glanced away from him for a split second to look for her friend. In that instant, he felt the magic of their shared moment burst. He let go of her and stepped back.

"There you are!" Weaselette exclaimed, coming around the corner. Then she saw him standing off to the side. "Malfoy."

"Weas- Ginny."

She raised an eyebrow at his use of her first name. Then, examining the distance between them, paused for a moment. "Since when do you come to the library?"

"Since when do you?"

"Touche." The youngest Weasley turned her attention back to Granger. "Hermione, I need to talk to you. Privately."

"Can it wait? I need to study for the Potions quiz," Granger replied, avoiding Draco's questioning gaze.

The redhead immediately stepped forward, lowering her voice. Draco still heard every word. "I think you'll want to discuss it now."

"Alright," Granger responded, hastily. "I just need a minute to pack up my things."

Weaslette narrowed her eyes. She glanced back to him, then at Granger, then back to him. "Ok," she pursed her lips. "I'll wait for you outside the library. We should probably go up to Gryffindor Tower." Draco thought he caught a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. _Did she suspect?_

"Thanks, Gin."

"Malfoy," she nodded to him.

"Ginny," he nodded back. She appeared amused by his use of her nickname. She gave them both one last fleeting glance, then headed off the same way she had come.

"Malfoy," Granger began the second her friend was gone.

"Guess I will have to rely on my own wits to help me study," he interrupted her, turning on his heel to walk back to their desk. "Sounds important," he continued as, he tried to hide his smirk.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Can we ta-."

"I'll let you know if I come across anything particularly difficult."

"Malfoy."

"You better take advantage of the 'Ferret' pass because it's a one-time offer."

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy!'" He mocked her. He made a face as he stopped in front of his spot and started to pack up his belongings.

"I do not sound like that!" She hit him with her book.

"Watch it, Granger. I might like that kind of thing, if you know what I mean." He winked at her, loving how she immediately stopped and turned away to hide her blush.

"Git," she muttered under her breath.

"Know-It-All."

"Prat."

"Goody-goody."

"Wanker."

"Say that to my face," he challenged, moving between her and her bag. He was taller than her by a few inches. She was forced to look up into his gray orbs. Unlike the shy, playful girl who had just been in front of him, he now saw a provocative glint in her eyes. She went up on her tip toes, getting as close to eye-level with him as she physically could. He wondered if she returned his feelings. Perhaps he had been right to put it all on the line. Maybe that's what a girl like her wanted. Was she going to kiss him back? He closed his eyes in anticipation.

"Wanker."

Before he could say a word or open his eyes, he heard her grab her bag and dart from the library.

 _Bloody woman really will be the death of me_.

* * *

 **A/N:** Happy October! Halloween is coming up and I'm so excited. Things are heating up between our favorite couple...do you feel it was too soon? Not soon enough? I mean, nothing is as easy as 1,2, 3, and we are all our own worst enemies...especially when we overthink things. For me, I overthink my storyline choices. For Draco and Hermione it will be overthinking what this means for them.

 **nellaine824** \- I tend to see Ginny as what I imagine Lily would have been like, very caring and understanding, though fiercely loyal and protective of those she loves.  
 **caprubia** \- You determine if it's raging hormones or more than that. I know what I think :)  
 **pgoodrichboggs** \- Was that what you expected from Ms. Weasley? I'm interested to see how everyone reacts to her reaction.  
 **Madaya58** \- Thank you for reading! I appreciate the review.  
 **lasvegasskye** \- He is very protective of his witch, as he should be.  
 **piratekiddo** \- Still too soon for that kiss?  
 **Guest** \- Thank you. Genuinely love to hear why people care for the story.  
 **Visiteur** \- Yes, I do love Harry and Hermione's relationship. They are the best of a brother/sister pair and each brilliant in their own ways. I think now that he has been separated from her, he is coming to realization of how much a part of his life she was.  
 **Nichole87** \- Thank you for the constant reviews! I truly appreciate the support for this fic.  
 **Sage McMae** \- What do you think Ginny wants to discuss with Hermione?


	10. Echoes

**Chapter 10: Echoes**

"I think you should sit down," Ginny told Hermione as they entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"What's happened? Is Harry ok? Is Ron?" The Head Girl was increasingly concerned. Her best friend had barely uttered two words to her since they had left the library. At first, she had been worried Ginny was not as on-board with the Malfoy situation as she had let on at dinner. Now, however, Hermione noted the way Ginny avoided her eye contact and kept putting her hands in and out of her robes. The gravity of the situation appeared to be far worse.

"Yes, the boys are fine," she responded in a rushed sort of way. "Just sit."

"Oh good, she's here," Romilda appeared, clutching the Daily Prophet against her chest. "Hermione, I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"Sit!" Ginny commanded.

Hermione jumped slightly at her tone, but obeyed. She was not going to be on the end of one of Ginny's Bat-Boogey hexes. There was silence. Ginny and Romilda both seemed to be considering something unsaid. "Ok, so are you going to tell me what's going on now or are you both going to continue acting like a bunch of nervous Nellies?"

Romilda and Ginny looked at each other. The red-head sort of mouthed something to her friend, who shrugged, then she tried again to no avail. Slapping her palm against her forehead, she groaned and turned back to Hermione. "Do you recall how Rita Skeeter was supposed to do the write-up for your engagement announcement?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, slowly, cautiously.

"Do you also remember how you discovered her unregistered Animagus ability your fourth year?

"Yes."

"And proceeded to capture her in a jar?"

"Yes."

More silence.

"Well she came back at you...in a big way," Romilda declared, thrusting the newspaper into Hermione's lap.

"Romilda!"

"Sorry! Better she hears it from us than everyone else."

Hermione barely heard the rest of their bickering as her eyes scanned the headline: **Public Heartbreak from War Heroine to Best Friend**.

 _While the war gave many of us a new perspective on life and love, the war heroine, Miss Hermione Granger has yet to be satisfied. The tenacious temptress is still sinking her claws into various celebrities even as she returns to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete her N.E.W.T.S. Though some proclaim Miss Granger as a key component of the highly praised "Golden Trio" (which includes Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley), this reporter finds it important to note her lesser known qualities that may have you rethinking her title._

 _Yesterday afternoon, Miss Granger's long-time boyfriend and invaluable Auror, Ronald Weasley, demonstrated the ultimate romantic deed by proposing at their Alma Mata. His proposal was the result of months of careful planning and coordination to be conducted in front of a group of close family and friends. This event was brought to a halt when Miss Granger publicly rejected Mr. Weasley's proposal, humiliating him in front of all in attendance. Though Mr. Weasley wanted a queit and intimate affair, Miss Granger, ever the attention-seeking witch, expected a grandiose gesture from her significant other. One may ask if she planned on refusing him because she, like Mr. Potter, are publicity-hungry war survivors.  
_

 _Miss Granger was not available to comment, however, upon interviewing her classmates at Hogwarts rumors have spread that she has been seen in the company of another wizard. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and former Death Eater has been repeatedly caught with Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy, whose parents are currently testifying at the Ministry of Magic against their prior associates, fought against Mr. Weasley during the Battle of Hogwarts last year. Could it be that Miss Granger's desperation has no bounds? Has she decided to go searching for her next victim? Only time will tell. This reporter gives fair warning to all eligible wizards - Stay away from Hermione Granger._

When Rita had wrote about her being _devious_ in fourth year, the article's words had stung. What had been worse was that when Mrs. Weasley read it, she had automatically blamed Hermione, treating her unfairly until Harry stood up for her. It had been Harry, not Ron, who had stood up for her and vanquished the rumors. She could hardly imagine facing Molly now. While the facts had been twisted and molded into providing Rita a dramatic read, the end result was the same. She had ended her relationship with Ron only a day ago. Regardless of if his mother believed what was said in the article or not, she would not be pleased with Hermione. Ron was her youngest son. She had always favored him. Hermione was beginning to doubt that she would receive an invitation to the Burrow for this Christmas holiday.

She had told Ron no and in so doing, she had quite possibly ruined her friendship with him. Regardless of how he had acted, she still care for him. Yes, she was mad. Yes, she was hurt. Deep down, she knew those feelings would fade and she'd start to miss him. Ever since they had become the trio during their first year at Hogwarts, she had held a strong connection to both him and Harry. She had never expected them to ever be parted. They had come close several times, especially last year, but she had always thought if they were to die, they'd be together for that as well. It was a true bond, a connection unlike anything she had shared with anyone else, including her own parents. Now, she was the reason that bond had been broken...potentially forever.

The fact that Rita had drug Malfoy into it was even worse. Hermione felt sick. She hadn't had the chance to confide in Harry about her friendship with Malfoy. She honestly did want to tell him. Harry, out of all of her friends, knew the best and worst of Malfoy. Still, she thought next to Ginny, he would be the most understanding. After all, he was a better man than his father had been at his age. While Hermione didn't think Harry would listen to anything Rita had to say, she did want him to hear about her relationship with the Head Boy from her first. Ron deserved the benefit of the doubt as well. Neither of them should find out from a stranger, especially one who was profiting off their misery to accelerate her career. The main problem with coming clean to the boys about Malfoy was that she had no idea what he was to her. Friends seemed to be not strong enough of a word.

He had kissed her. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers over her lips. She could almost taste him lingering there. More than the kiss was the fact he had admitted he had feelings for her. He had spouted out his intentions rather loudly in the middle of the library, startling her. At dinner, she had planned on seeing if he cared enough about her to be kind in a predictable way. Her plan had backfired somewhat. She had never expected him to be so blunt with her. She certainly hadn't expected him to express that level of sentiment. It had her more confused than before.

"Hermione?" Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

The Head Girl hardly heard her friend. She was still replaying Malfoy's confession. _I want you, Granger. I want you to be mine and mine alone, but I know bloody well that I don't deserve you. So there it is. No teasing. No lies. Maybe you fancy me. Maybe you don't. But I do fancy you...maybe more than fancy._ When had had spoken those words to her, Hermione had been aware of how loud her heart was beating in her chest. She had held her breath, afraid that if she moved, even the slightest bit, she would wake up and the whole exchange would be nothing more than a dream. That was how she had realized how much she wanted to hear him say that. When he had finished, she had wanted to tell him how she had been feeling. She wanted him to know that he wasn't alone in this...what ever this was.

It was stupid, a fact now made even more apparent by Rita's article. Hermione was insane to think that she could have a relationship with Draco Malfoy. She had just ended her first real relationship. It hadn't been a simple boyfriend/girlfriend situation. She had dated her best friend of seven years and had turned down his public proposal. It was beyond complicated. She knew it wasn't healthy to jump into another relationship so quickly...if that was even what Malfoy was offering. He hadn't gone into specifics. Hermione knew herself well enough to know that she was not the type of girl to enter into an uncommitted relationship or have a fling. She was a romantic. She wanted real love, true romance, even if that meant waiting an awfully long time for it.

Of course, she may need to wait even longer after Rita was done with her. The thing that bothered Hermione most about the article was how it got under her skin. She was questioning herself and her own actions since reading the twisted version of the truth. Earlier today, she had concocted a plan to test Malfoy to see if he cared for her genuinely. Maybe Rita was right. Maybe she was hungry for attention and never satisfied. Maybe her feelings for Malfoy weren't real. Maybe she was just using it as an excuse to console herself for pushing Ron away. Had he really been so terrible? She had waited for him for nearly six years and then once she had him, she realized he wasn't what she wanted. What kind of person did that?

"Hermione," Ginny sat down next to her, tugging on her hand. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course," she answered automatically, not registering how monotone her voice sounded.

"She can't publish this. It's complete rubbish!"

"Why doesn't your nitwit of a brother do something?" Romilda grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest. "It's his fault she was even here."

"Not helping," Ginny growled.

"How did you get this?" Hermione asked, handing the paper back to Ginny.

"She owled it to you at dinner, but it arrived late. This is the draft. The real publication will be released tomorrow morning."

"Bitch," Romilda hissed. "She's baiting you to see what other juicy drama she can stir up."

"I probably deserve it," Hermione sighed, letting her head fall into her hands.

"What! How can you say that?" Ginny snapped.

For a brief moment, Hermione considered coming clean with Ginny about what had just transpired in the library. Her best friend had appeared extremely mature and supportive of the situation earlier. However, a newfound unease was growing within Hermione. As much as she hated herself for falling for Rita's revenge, she had to be honest with herself. It was getting to her.

"I rejected Ron's proposal."

"It was lame," Romilda said rather defensively. "I mean if he really loved you, he should have go-."

"Not. Helping." Ginny silenced the witch with a steely glare.

"I waited all those years for him. I kept hoping he'd see me the way I saw him. I thought after all we went through, all the fighting, all the lose..." Hermione trailed off, her eyes glazing over. "I thought we really meant something to each other but it was like after the Battle ended...we did too." She stopped, shaking her head and sighing. Ginny wrapped her arms around her shoulders, hugging her.

"Hermione," she started in a quiet voice. "Just because it didn't work out with Ron now doesn't mean Rita is right."

"Feels that way. Who waits years for a person to fall in love with them, then decides they don't love that person anymore, at the same moment when that person loves you back?"

"A witch who deserves better," Romilda answered, ducking as Ginny threw a pillow at her head. "Watch it, Weasley!"

The Head Girl didn't expect an answer to her question. Her friends were too busy fighting and having an all-out pillow war about the Common Room to provide any further insight. She was exhausted. The day had been an emotional roller coaster. She had had no chance to process anything that had happened between her and Ron or her and Draco. _Malfoy_ , she mentally reprimanded herself. _His name is Malfoy_. Hermione decided she needed time alone to think, away from her schoolwork, away from her friends, and away from her roommate. Without saying goodbye, Hermione left Gryffindor Tower, slipping out onto the Hogwarts grounds and down to the Whomping Willow. She hadn't been in the Shrieking Shack since Professor's Snape's death, but it was the only place she knew she'd be left alone.

Upon entering, she shivered. Evidence of the horrors that had taken place in the old building had been removed, but the echoes of the past still lingered. Walking past a shattered mirror, Hermione studied her reflection. She was barely a shadow of the girl she had been the first time she had walked through this place. That Hermione Granger was gone. She didn't know who she was anymore.

* * *

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Draco shouted, as he threw objects about his room. He was glad he had been wise enough to cast noise-cancelling charms around his chamber when he moved in. He didn't want anyone overhearing his rather unflattering tantrum. Grabbing a vial from his desk, he smashed it into the floor. The glass shattered into tiny fragments around his feet, while the light purple liquid leaked out. Books lay scattered about. His drapes were ripped to shreds. Parchment, quills, ink, and even some Bertie Botts Every Flavour beans were strewn about the floor. He grumbled a curse before twirling his wand to clean-up the mess.

He was berating himself for his declaration. Draco Malfoy did not get jealous. Draco Malfoy did not confess his feelings to anyone, least of all the witch he was interested in. Draco Malfoy did not lose his cool and kiss women in the library. No, he wasn't acting like himself, not one bit. Moving away from the few belongings he had that still remained intact, he stepped into his bathroom. He leaned back against the door, sighing and running a hand through his hair. He had been one-hundred percent, completely honest with Granger back there. He couldn't recall a time when he had been that honest with his own parents, let alone anyone else. What was happening? Why did he feel so out of control?

Desperately he wished he had someone to talk to - Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, hell at this point he'd even take Pansy, but not a single one of them could help him. He was falling in love with a Muggleborn. His father would probably cast the Killing Curse on him if he ever found out. Lucius Malfoy had been raised to believe that purity of blood was next to godliness. It was perhaps the only thing Lucius considered more valuable than the power and gold he surrounded himself with. Draco had undergone many teachings about it through his younger years. Prior to being sent to Hogwarts, Lucius had made sure he was tutored privately at home by some of the finest, though he screened them before-hand to ensure they all shared his belief on blood purity.

Years of lessons and enduring the Cruciatus Curse had him blindly following in his father's footsteps. Upon arriving at Hogwarts, his sincerest wish was to be sorted into Slytherin House and achieve great marks in Potions, same as Lucius. When he had been beaten out his first exam by a witch, he had been angry. Knowing she was Muggleborn and a Gryffindor only made his defeat more painful. He had been ashamed to admit it when Lucius had owled him. As anticipated, he suffered for his failure during the Christmas break. Despite the pleading from his mother, Lucius had administered not one but two doses of "Crucio".

He had hated Granger for it. Naturally, being young and guileless, he had blamed her for his failure. Draco had assumed she had cheated. He had always impressed his private instructors. He intended to impress the Hogwarts professors as well. The summer before Second Year, he had been at Borgin and Burkes with his father, who was trying to sell off some of his dark arts items to the shop owner. He had eyed up the Hand of Glory each time his father permitted him to come to the shop. That year, he figured he was old enough to ask for it. After receiving the second highest marks of anyone in his class, he assumed his father would willingly purchase it for him. Secretly, Draco had been hoping it would give him an edge over Granger. When he had showed interest, his father had lashed out with one of his typical comments. Lucius Malfoy certainly had a talent for belittling his only child.

Draco had been sore about it the rest of the day. His mood had not improved when he had run into Potter, Weasel, and Granger at Flourish and Blotts only moments later. He had been annoyed that Potter had gotten special treatment just for being "The-Boy-Who-Lived." Everyone loved him instantly, while Draco's own father couldn't even spare him a simple pat on the back or "Nice work" when he came home with top grades. Draco hated him for it. Then there was Weasel, who had an entire family of supporters. They had enough members to start their own Quidditch team and they always had their matching sweaters, as if they were already doing that. They had next to no money, but they were always happier than he was. Draco hated him for that. And finally there was Granger.

That day, his father had insulted her and her parents indirectly, but she had never once turned away from his sneer. Her parents, though clearly upset, had not gone running from the store either. Even after his father and Mr. Weasley had gotten into a scuffle, the Muggleborns stood fast. At the age of eleven, she was far braver than the majority of those he knew. If what she had survived during First Year was any indication, she was capable of dealing out far more harm than people gave her credit for. The look of pure defiance in Granger's eyes had stuck with him. He remembered laying in bed that night thinking how she actually looked kind of pretty that way.

The altercation had had a difference impact on his father. Lucius had instantly purchased _Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones_ for the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, with the expectation that one, his son would be added to the roster and two, he'd be given premium seating to watch the matches. Mistakenly, Draco had seen his father's gesture as a step in the right direction. He had assumed Lucius wanted to take a more active role in his life. Draco had believed it was his love of Quidditch that inspired his father to purchase the brooms. However, time proved that this, like many of Lucius' actions was a power play.

His mother had taken him out the next day to get the best in Quidditch apparel for practicing and so he'd "shine up like a new Galleon" on the field. Narcissa was unlike his father in many ways. She often embraced him, spoke to him with affection, and treated him as if he was the only thing of value in the manor. Like his father, however, she considered their elite status as part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight critical. She often teased about marrying him off to one of the other families eligible daughters. When he had brought up the fight Lucius had had with Mr. Weasley, his mother had bristled slightly, then muttered something foul.

Lucius had said the word 'Mudblood' often. Draco knew well enough not to use it in front of his parents, but he had thrown it around to his fellow Slytherins last year in the Common Room when attempting to assert himself. Hearing his mother say it then had startled him. His mother was a Black, one of the most regarded Pureblood families. His aunt Bella was imprisoned in Azkaban for her loyalty to those beliefs, having led her to follow the Dark Lord. His other aunt, Andromeda Black, was a complete mystery. He had seen a picture of her once. The second his mother caught him looking at it, she had taken it from him and told him to never speak of her again - something to do with who she had married.

Later that year, after school had begun, he had said that hateful word to Granger. She had belittled him in front of his new friends on the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were all older than him and he had been hoping to get their advice on how to beat her in his classes. Plus, he figured no one would touch him if he was hanging out with the older students. It gave him credit with his own group too, having impressed those in his year beyond Crabbe and Goyle. Then Granger had come along and tried to ruin it for him. She already had the grades. Did she have to mess up Quidditch too?

So he said it. He called her a 'Mudblood.' The instant the word came out of mouth, he felt something clench in his chest. Granger hadn't responded at first. She looked more confused than angry. He was about to gloat, finally having come up with something she didn't know when everyone around him went into attack mode. Weasel had even tried to curse him. In the end, the entire fiasco worked in his favor. Flint, the captain, approved of his use of the word and they all had a good laugh about Weasel's curse backfiring on him. Seeing the red-head run away while trying not to puke up slugs was hilarious.

But that night, Draco was restless in bed. He hadn't liked the fact that being rude to Granger twisted him up so much. He decided it was because she was still beating him in classes, so he continued using the word, even going as far as to tell his friends that he hoped she died. In truth, he did not want her dead. He only continued to say hurtful things because he wanted it to become a habit so he'd stop worrying about it each night.

By the next year, he was getting crueler with his words, taking a new approach by being cruel to those Granger favored too. He still wanted to beat her in classes, but teasing her and her friends seemed to aggravate her to no end, especially since he had grown over the summer. He was now taller than her, so when she got angry she couldn't shout in his face, she had to look up. It gave him a rather satisfied feeling. When he tried to one up Potter in Care of Magical Creatures, he wound up in the Hospital Wing. The result was his parents demanding the execution of the creature in question. He took it too far when he made light of the situation in front of her. She had slapped him. And that was it.

That was the moment.

The slap had made his ears ring. His cheek had been sore for days. It hurt worse than what the hippogriff had done, but he never mentioned it to either of his parents. Hermione Granger was the first person who had ever made Draco doubt his upbringing. After she had struck him, everything had changed. Outwardly, he remained the same. Internally though, it was a constant battle. His mind was at war every day. There were appearances to keep up with. With the looming threat of the Dark Lord's return, his thought process became increasingly dangerous, but it continued.

When he saw her in the corridors or watched her studying in the library, he contemplating joining her. He started conversations with her hundreds upon hundreds of times in his head, wondering about her life, what she did with her summers, how Muggles managed the heat...he had so many questions. Mainly, he wanted to know her, know how she could live with such passion.

Shoving himself off the bathroom door, the blonde wizard stepped into his shower, needing the warm water to release the pressure in his muscles. He had denied his attraction to Granger for longer than he cared to admit. After years, it had burst from him in the most sincere and raw manner possible. If he had been aware of how dangerously close he had been to the edge, he would never have gone to the library.

 _She doesn't like you_ , he thought mournfully, replaying how quickly she had run off in the library. How could she? He had never treated her well until this year. Constantly, he had mocked her and been cruel on purpose. The last couple of months couldn't make up for the last several years of torment he had inflicted upon her. She was right to run away. He had never been brave like her or her friends. He had always been too afraid, too weak. He didn't deserve her love.

Perhaps Draco was being punished. He had made all the wrong choices. All these years he had been attempting to achieve what was defined as "right" by his father. Living to please Lucius had resulted in an empty life. He should have been living his life the way Granger did. She saw opportunities in every situation. Where he saw the limitations, she saw ten different ways to achieve the impossible. Where she saw prejudice and mistrust, she found common ground or held the high ground. When he was met with resistance, he lashed out or closed himself off. There had been countless times he could have rejected his father's teachings, pulled away to form his own path. It had taken the Ministry stepping in and his family defecting from the Death Eaters for him to finally act on his own opinions.

For years she had been there, teaching by example. He had been too narrow-minded and hindered by his tunnel vision to realize what was right in front of him. Now that he had, he realized the next part: He couldn't have her. He was being punished. He had waited too long. He had lost his chance.

All that was left was an echo, a shadow of the life he could have had.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow! The response to the last chapter was absolutely amazing. Honestly, thank you all for your faithful reading, following, reviewing, etc. I probably wouldn't stay motivated to continue without your love. **

I do apologize for the delay. I just started a new job last week, which took up more time than I anticipated, but writing fanfiction doesn't pay the bills so... Then this week my brother was in an accident, so I couldn't focus. That being said, we all have our days when the world gets to us. We're only human. For Hermione, Rita's article is one of those times, but don't count our girl down and out just yet! We all know she's capable of some pretty amazing things.

 **Nichole87** \- Not Ron...entirely, but still an annoying character I believe we all loathe to some extent.  
 **Guest** \- Sorry for the delay. Hoping to get the next chapter out quicker.  
 **pgoodrichboggs** \- That was my favorite part to write. I never thought Draco was an evil person, he was just raised differently and unfortunately didn't take care of him the way Hermione takes care of her friends.  
 **nellaine824** \- I do love Ginny. I think she is such an underrated character. Being the youngest and having all older brothers gives her a different perspective on things, especially men.  
 **Helloitsme996** \- Oh there will be a Ron/Draco confrontation in the future...don't you worry!  
 **caprubia** \- I'd be flustered if Tom Felton cornered me in the library and made suggestive jokes...but I'd also die a very very happy fan girl.  
 **distractedbyshinyobjects** \- Chapter 11 should be out sooner than this one, hopefully. Fingers crossed.  
 **Guest 2** \- Thank you! I'm so happy to know you enjoyed it and stuck with it from the beginning.  
 **Sage McMae** \- Glad you get it. I can't stand the hate Dramione fans get because everyone claims Draco is pure evil or incapable of change.  
 **Elsa007** \- There will be more tension, as you can see from above, but that's half the fun of their relationship. The more they deny it, the truer it becomes.  
 **chphil80** \- Thank you. I wanted him to be the first one to say it (out loud at least) because I feel it shows his maturity as a person, learning from his past mistakes and trying to turn over a new leaf.  
 **Guest 3** \- Yes, I do like to keep you all guessing and hanging on for more.  
 **lasvegasskye** \- When are you going to write another fic, Skye? I've been waiting. Letters was such a tease.  
 **Thali** \- No, no! Don't die. Just hang on and I'll get another chapter out pronto!  
 **Rayah19** \- When I'm writing, I see everything playing in my mind, like a movie. Actually, my best scenes come to me at the most random times and I have to quickly get to my laptop or my iPad to get it all down before I lose it. Of course, they usually need some editing, but they still remain my favorite and absolutely most organic scenes.  
 **The Gryffindor Hatstall** \- Love your handle. Out of curiosity, were you sorted into Gryffindor on Pottermore?  
 **Green Eyed Lana Lee** \- You are freakin' AMAZING! You blew up my Inbox like Woah! But seriously, thank you for all of your well-written and detailed reviews. I sincerely appreciate all the feedback and your views on my decisions as I develop this story.  
 **Guest4** \- Sorry for the delay. Hoping to have the next chapter up within a week or so.


	11. Distance

**Chapter 11: Distance**

It had been two weeks since Draco had confessed how he felt to Granger. Two painfully long, agonizingly quiet weeks. After she had left the library with Weaselette, Draco had remained up, waiting for Granger to get back to their dorm. He had wanted to know what she wanted to talk about. Part of him had been convinced she was going to tell him the past couple of months had been a mistake, but there was a small part of him, a hopeful part of him that still clung to the chance she may reciprocate his feelings. After midnight when he still hadn't heard her come in. Eventually he had drifted off to sleep. When the sun began shining into his bed chamber, he had woken up, immediately concerned with her whereabouts.

He had begun making a list of all the reasons why she would have stayed out so late, starting with the most ridiculous one his sleep-deprived brain could think up: She had dropped out and gone off to marry Weasley. Doubtful. Granger would never leave schoolwork unfinished, especially being Head Girl. He had also considered the fact that she was too embarrassed to speak to him, so she had remained out until she suspected he had gone to bed. Dubbing that the most realistic of his current options, he had gotten dressed and headed down to the Great Hall. He had spotted the Head Girl pacing outside the doors.

Granger had looked rather disheveled. Her eyes had been rimmed red, a clear indication she hadn't slept well either. He had contemplated trying to convince the Headmistress to let them both off for the day due to a contagious sickness. His self-serving intention in that being that he wanted them to pick up where they left off in the library the night before. Without the distraction of classes, friends, or Head duties they could have a real conversation. Perhaps that real conversation would lead to more meaningful matters.

It had not.

She had apologized for using him after the break-up with Weasley and then had proceeded to ask him to take a break from their one on one lessons. He hadn't been expecting that. Both statements had caught him off guard. Regardless of how things were between them, he had not seen a reason for them to stop meeting. Granger had always been concerned about her grades. It was her top priority. He was baffled by her choice to halt the sessions. Still, out of respect for her and somewhat selfish hope for himself, he agreed to her wishes.

The tension between them had grown since that moment. Being the top two students of their year and the Heads, they were often together for rounds, planning meetings, and partnered up for various assignments. That was when they spoke. It was often short dialogue, centered around the topic at hand with a passing comment on the weather or how the patrol scheduled had been shifted to accommodate the approaching holidays. One morning in Herbology, Granger had asked him how he was, while reaching for a pruning shear. He almost gave himself whiplash in order to give her his undivided attention, but when he turned to reply, she already had her nose buried in the class text. His words died in his throat and he proceeded without responding.

Later that same week, they both found themselves in the library studying. Without meaning to, he had followed her into the section on Ancient Runes. They had both busied themselves searching for their respective texts, working hard to ignore one another. Draco had felt heat work its way all up his body. He had had luck in the past with using his charm and physical traits to get him what he wanted. Surprising a witch with a strong kiss usually got him the desired result. However, he was positive that would earn him a bat-boogey hex from Weaselette and another punch from Granger, so he kept his desires to himself. Watching her move through the enclosed space made him remember how he had wanted to push her up against those shelves and snog her senseless. He still did. Talking or not talking. Friends or not, he still wanted her. His feelings remained unwavering as the days went by. He briefly wondered if she felt it too.

As he had moved to leave the aisle, she had been trying to sneak past him unnoticed. They collided, causing them both to jump apart at the shock of touching each other for the first time in over a week. Granger had been the first to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it was my fault," he had quickly stated.

There was hesitation in both of their eyes, as they tried to avoid the sudden awkwardness between them. He noticed she was chewing on her lower lip. She appeared to be fighting herself on something, internally battling over a decision. When she began to reach out towards him, he felt his hand flinch in her direction, eager for the contact. As swiftly as she had started to come forward, she backed up, nearly scrapping the back of her legs on the bookshelf behind her. There was another elongated pause as the tension resume.

"How is Muggle Studies?" she finally asked.

"Good. How is Flying?"

"Good."

His whole body thrummed with a deep need to be with her. He missed her laughter, missed having someone to talk to, missed having an excuse to brush hands with her or hold onto her. The longer they remained in this unlabeled state, the harder it was for him to deny his attraction for her. He felt as if he was constantly being pulled in her direction. No matter where they were, classes, the Great Hall, rounds - he always knew where she was, what she was wearing, how she had done her hair that day. No detail went unnoticed, no movement, not matter how minute, went examined. He had never felt this way before. He had never been obsessed. He felt as if he was going mad with want.

The kiss they had shared in the library, brief as it was, had unlocked something inside of him. Draco's emotions had already been borderline erratic. The instant their lips met, he had felt the tether cement around his heart. He was connected to her. Whether she felt the same was irrelevant. He was hers.

"I should be getting back," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"Yeah," he heard himself respond, "Me too." His voice sounded as if he was one hundred miles away, as if he was watching someone else's life play out before his eyes - a person who was unable to have the girl he wanted.

* * *

"What is wrong with you?" Ginny asked.

Hermione felt her friend watching her, as she had done for the past two weeks at every meal. Ginny and Romilda had been annoyingly attentive since she had walked out on them in the Gryffindor Tower. Harry had written more frequently as well, though Ron continued to ignore her. Their constant contact and conversation should have warmed her. After all, it was what she had felt she was missing all semester. Unfortunately, it did little to dull the pain of Malfoy's absence.

She had grown used to their banter. Having studied alone her entire life, it was nice to find someone who shared her level of interest on multiple subjects. It was especially nice to have someone who was as driven and internally motivated as he was. He was challenging, but in a way that caused her to rise to the occasion. She was better at flying because of him. Their class rivalry kept her on her toes, pushing her to achieve better results and delve deeper into her subjects. He made her better. And she missed him.

The affect of his absence must have been illustrated on her face, because Romilda scoffed. "Honestly," she started, "It's not like you two snogged or anything." Hermione felt her face turn three shades of red. "Right?" Romilda pressed, immediately noticing the color. Her fork dropped with a loud clang, as she turned on the bench to face the Head Girl.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Ginny hissed between her teeth, her hand latching around Hermione's arm. She yanked her friend towards her, whispering in her ear. "I am only going to ask this once. Did you or did you not snog Draco Malfoy?" Hermione nodded. Ginny was down-right terrifying when she wanted to be. "When?" Ginny's grip tightened around her arm.

"In the library."

The red-headed witch paused for a moment, then her grip loosened until Hermione's arm fell out of her reach. "No," Ginny began shaking her head, as the realization came to her. "When I walked up to you two?" Hermione nodded again. Ginny's indignation vanished. "Hermione," she began, reaching for her again. Her voice had softened considerably. She was sending off a strong pity vibe that repulsed Hermione. She didn't want to be pitied. She didn't need anyone feeling bad for her.

"It's fine, Gin."

"Like hell it is," Romilda snapped.

"It was stupid of me."

"If it was so stupid, why do you care so much?" Ginny pointed out.

"I don't," Hermione stated quickly. Too quickly.

Ginny and Romilda both rolled their eyes. "We have to teach you to lie better."

Hermione sighed, barely hearing them as they got into another round of 'how-to-help-Hermione'. She risked sneaking a peak across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was seated at the end. He had his head down, hunched over his food, as he normally did these days. She sighed again, feeling a pressure in her chest. As the days went by, sluggishly, they reminded her of the friend she had lost more and more. She thought of Rita less and less. The article seemed to have carried no weight with either the Ministry or those at Hogwarts, for which she was thankful. However the only person's opinion she cared about was the blonde across the room.

Having fought in the war and been tortured by a Death Eater, Hermione feared very little. Still, she couldn't get up the courage to confront Malfoy about the article. She was terrified of the truth. It was a fifty-fifty shot. Either it bothered him or it didn't. It should have been easy to ask him. They had talked about far more controversial subjects over the last few months. None of those compared to what she needed to ask him now. Perhaps part of her dread stemmed from the fact that his parents were still unreachable and more than likely not pleased with the results of the article. Even if the majority of the wizarding world didn't have stock in Rita's words, the Prophet was still read. Falsehoods or not, Hermione couldn't imagine a world where Lucius Malfoy would approve of her spending time with his only son.

As if sensing her gaze, Draco glanced up. Their eyes locked across the room. Hermione froze. His gaze was so intense, so filled with all that remained unsaid between them. She unconsciously touched her fingers to her lips, recalling the sensation of him against her mouth. Merlin, he had stolen away her breath with that kiss. It had been quick. Brevity aside, she had felt more from that singular moment when they joined together than she had in the last year with Ron. And that proved to her what Ginny had said before: She did care.

She cared more than she was willing to admit to anyone, including herself. It had been building. She had felt it building over the last few months. The animosity had developed into companions, into friendship, and finally into-

 _Love._

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, dropping her fingers away from her face, at the thought of the word. It was startling. Yet, there it was, as true as the desire she saw reflected in his eyes as he remained locked in her gaze.

What had she done?

* * *

The screaming pierced through the night. Draco heard the terribly tortured cries of agony and sat up, awake, with beads of sweat on his brow. He looked around him, realizing he was within his chambers at Hogwarts. He wasn't at the Manor. The Dark Lord was dead. His father was under constant guard. The war was over. He needed to remind himself of those facts daily. The screaming had all been in his head. The nightmares came often. The frequency never made them less painful or realistic. Closing his eyes, he laid back down, attempting to push it from his mind in order to get some rest.

Another scream rung out. Draco realized with dread that this time the sound was not in his head. He jumped out of bed, grabbing his wand. His first concern was Hogwarts being attacked. He knew there were still some Dark Lord supporters on the loose. If they were radical to the level of his Aunt Bellatrix, he could see them launching an assault on the historical institution. It would certainly make the papers. The sound echoed through the chamber and he ran out.

The wailing was coming from Granger's room. He reached her door, cursing when he discovered she had locking charms in place. The shrieking became louder and he muttered incantations until the door swung open. Draco frantically searched the room for an intruder. Though it was dark, he didn't see a soul. No one was there. He crossed the room where he found her in bed.

She was writhing about, limbs twitching in unnatural positions. He gripped her upper arms, raising her off her mattress and shaking her back and forth gently. Her breathing was ragged. He could feel her pulse was rapid and her skin was hot to the touch.

"Granger! Granger! Wake up!"

His shouting paired with his touch forced her out of the nightmare. Her eyes opened, unfocused at first. Immediately, she began beating her fists against his chest and kicking out her legs. He held onto her wrists to stop her, but winced when she landed a kick against his shin.

"Damn it, Granger! Granger, knock it off, it's me!"

As the post-dream haze lifted, her eyes centered on his face and her breathing slowed down.

"It was a dream. It wasn't real."

"Malfoy?"

Granger was staring up at him, searching his face, as if trying to determine whether or not he was really here. Then, she glanced down to where his hands were still wrapped around her wrists.

He released her instantly, taking a step back. "You were screaming."

She sat there in silence, not looking at him. He could tell she was remembering what had caused her cries. She bit back her lip, as if she was contemplating something internally. Her hands balled up into fists in her lap, then released. He noticed how her skin was rippled with Goosebumps. He figured she had to be cold. In all the commotion, Granger's sheets had fallen from her to reveal she had been sleeping in her bra and panties.

Draco wouldn't have pegged her for the type. Being as uptight as she was, he assumed she slept in pajamas. Seeing her smooth skin encased in the matching set made him rethink that. In spite of himself and the situation, he found himself scanning her up and down. The soft curves of her body caused something within him to twist. He felt a heat spreading throughout his body as he took her in. Her ample breasts were heavy up and down, as she tried to control her breathing. Her flat stomach led to her lower half, where he noted her hip bones were sticking out slightly before they came to the edge of her bikini cut underwear. He licked his lips, reminding himself to breathe.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you."

Her voice halted his look over. He needed to get out of her room and away from her before she noticed how he was staring at her. She wasn't a meal. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake. If she saw the lustful hunger in his eyes right now, she would surely hex him into oblivion. Perhaps that was what he needed. She could put him out of his misery right here and right now. It would be far better than the awkward limbo they had been stuck in the past two weeks.

He gave her a curt nod and began to walk out, when a thought occurred to him. He didn't have to be the only one lusting after their roommate. He had seen the way she was looking at him at dinner this evening. She had even touched her mouth. It had been increasingly difficult to sit there after that. He had needed several minutes to clear his mind before he could safely leave the table. Still, it could work to his advantage now. After all, there was no better way to forget a nightmare than by replacing it with a fantasy. Perhaps it was the tension finally getting the best of him, or perhaps he truly did have a death wish. Either way, he decided to go for it. He stalled in the doorway.

"Nice lace." Even in the dark, he could see the color that rose to her cheeks. She instantly pulled the sheets up around herself. Draco smirked. "And black too." He let out a whistle.

He couldn't help himself. They hadn't bantered in their normal competitive way in weeks. This time he was going to win in their little back and forth baiting game. If he was going to win, he was going to win big. He would go down in the flames of glory...though he hoped not literal flames, if Granger took it badly. Then again, if there was one thing Draco Malfoy was good at, it was being a charmer. He hadn't been coined the Prince of Slytherin for just picking on Gryffindors. Seduction was practically his hobby before the war. He could undoubtedly fluster Granger. Knowing Potter and Weasel, they had never even told her she was pretty. Risque compliments would definitely get her.

"I could say the same for you," she retorted suddenly, surprising him. Though her voice wavered a bit, she didn't break eye contact with him. "Nice boxers. Satin?"

He chuckled, turning in her direction to lean against the door frame. _Oh, you want to play little girl? Let's play,_ he thought with a satisfied grin. He was rather pleased she had supplied him with a retort. "Not sure. You could come over here to check, if you want." For added effect, he ran his thumb along the inside of the boxer's hem.

She didn't respond.

"Maybe another time, then." He turned to leave, pausing as he closed the door half way.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah," he purred. "I don't lock my door, in case you ever feel the need to barge into my bedroom. Open invitation, Granger."

The color on her cheeks deepened at his suggestion. She dropped her gaze, focused on her crimson sheets. She had no come back and he knew he had won this round. He walked out, leaving it at that. He was finally going to get the last word in with the witch. All of his plans had backfired on him when it came to her, but not this time. This time he had managed to make her speechless, as predicted. It was so much more satisfying than angering her. That look on her face had been worth it. At the very least, he had distracted her from her fear of the nightmare. Perhaps now she could resume her rest.

 _Let her think about that while she goes to sleep,_ he thought smugly.

"Draco?" He halted at the proximity of her voice. Suddenly, she was standing next to him. "Could you...would you maybe...stay with me tonight?" Her voice had lost all confidence. There was no more teasing, no more joking. He noticed how her hands shook ever so slightly. She couldn't look at him. Her eyes were focused on the floor, and as she struggled to still her hands, she started to twist them together nervously in front of her. Even in her disheveled state she was beautiful. Instantly, he regretted provoking her. Part of him had done it to get her mind off of her fear, the other part had done it because he wanted her. Neither was a good enough reason, he decided, as he realized just how terrified she was.

"Come here," he pulled her in a hug. Her skin was cold to the touch and covered in Goosebumps. She gave a little shake. "You're shivering." She nodded, burying her face in his chest. "Let's get you back under the covers." He led her back to bed, allowing her scoot over to make room for him. He tugged the covers up around them both, savoring the moment when she snuggled up against him, laying an over over him. She didn't flinch when he wrapped his arms around her. Instead, she nestled her head on his chest.

"Can we be friends again?" she asked.

"We were always friends."

She was silent for a minute. Then, she shifted to look up at him, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Granger." She gave a little smile and resumed her prior position.

"Did I scare you away in the library?" he asked, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

"No." She sounded surprised to hear him question it. "I thought you were upset with me."

"Why would I be upset with you?"

"Because of the article."

"Article?"

"The one Rita Skeeter wrote about me."

Draco vaguely recalled Astoria trying to get him to read something in the Prophet. She may or may not have mentioned it had something to do with Hermione, but Draco hadn't been paying attention. He had been so focused on his pain, on how to get back into the Head Girl's good graces that he had overlooked perhaps the one thing that would have cleared up the entire incident.

"What did she say?"

"You didn't read it?"

"Should I have?"

"I thought it would upset you...and your parents."

She filled him in on the highlights. Though he felt for her, hearing the rubbish the author had published, he also felt relief. It had never been about his confession. It had never been about how he felt for her. Over the last two weeks, he had been worried he had hurt her too much, cut her too deeply in the past. He had never considered she would feel the same way in regards to him. Hearing her speak about it now was almost comical. She was oblivious to how defeated he had been. She had been too concerned about how the article would affect their relationship and his relationship with his parents, because she knew how much they meant to him. That was Hermione. She was always worried about others, always trying to help everyone else.

"I don't care what she wrote," he told her, giving her a squeeze. "I stand by what I said in the library. I want you to be mine."

"Even if they label you my next victim."

"I'd be happy to serve," he smirked.

Hermione was quiet for some time. He could feel her mulling over his words. Concerned she might over think things, he opted to return to his jokes. Teasing her was common ground, comfortable territory for the both of them.

"That was smooth, you know," he told her. "Anything to get me in bed with you, huh?" She jabbed him. "Ow!" She laughed. It was a real laugh. Her body had stopped shaking and there was a smile on her face. He took it as a good sign. Maybe he hadn't been wrong to tease her. It suddenly seemed to be working. "I couldn't have planned it better myself."

"Who said I didn't plan it?" He glanced down to see a coy smile played on her lips. Maybe his teasing wasn't working as well as he thought. She seemed to be catching on rather quickly. Once again, he had underestimated Granger. If she kept this up, he wasn't sure how he was going to keep himself off of her. He could feel his arousal starting up again. He tried to imagine Filch skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. Anything to still his lecherous thoughts. He didn't want to give Granger a reason to shoo him out of her room.

Then he saw her staring at her arm. She hadn't bared her mark to anyone. He was fairly certain the only reason he had seen it was because he had been there when she received it. That had not been one of his finer moments. Now, laying next to her, he could see the detail clearly. The red scars had healed over somewhat, but the word was still legible. He understood why she would be uneasy about allowing others to see it. He was self-concious about the Dark Mark and he had had a say in that. She had not been given a chance before she was branded.

"It doesn't mean anything," he said, softly.

She scooted up, so she was seated, reaching over to take his arm in her hands gently. Carefully, she rotated it over, revealing his Dark Mark. He sucked in a breath of air, as her fingers traced over the winding serpent. "It doesn't," she agreed. Her voice was strong. It had it's normal 'no-nonsense' attitude. "This isn't who you are." She lowered her eyes to meet his. "You never were that person, Draco."

The sincerity of her words hit him. He had been holding his breath, watching her examine the mark, waiting for her to recoil or ask him to leave. He had half-expected her to flinch when he mentioned her wound. She had only showed him before out of spite and to make a point. This time was different, this time she was baring more than flesh to him. She was showing him her, the raw, torn-down, Hermione Granger. And she was even more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her over his left leg to sit in front of him. He enveloped her in a hug, needing to hold onto her. He felt as if he was about to break. All other impulses faded into the background. The simple truth was he loved her. It was a foreign concept, but there it was. He had been fighting it for years, he knew, but now there was no where to run, no where to hide. The woman in his arms was a warrior, a braniac, a complete train-wreck at times and he loved her completely. She was all he wanted in the world, the only person he would ever need to get through the day. It all came down to one word.

 _Love._

Draco was hers. He had been hers longer than he realized. And now she was his.

She slipped back down to her original position, resting her head against his chest. "Goodnight, Malfoy.

He kissed the top of her head, allowing one hand to nest in her hair, playing with it lightly, while the other began rubbing her back. "Night, Granger."

After several minutes, her breathing slowed and she had fallen asleep. Draco remained up for a few minutes, his mind filled with thoughts of the witch in his arms, but soon he too succumbed to sleep.

* * *

Hermione woke to a warmth radiating from behind her. She slowly opened her eyes, glancing down her body to where Malfoy's hand was cupped around her hip bone. She had rolled over onto her left side at some point in the night and he had moved to stay tucked alongside her. Once again, he had kept to his word. He had only slept with her all through the night. And her nightmares had not returned.

Realizing she was still in only her bra and panties, she slipped out from under his arm to get dressed. She shuffled into her bathroom, careful to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake him. They had used the word 'friends' last night. Hermione thought they were anything but. After weeks of building tension, they had finally gotten back to a place where they were comfortable being together. She realized how comfortable it was when she had spent the entire night in his arms without any panic or uncertainty. No, she had found only compassion from him, with a few snarky side comments in true Malfoy form.

Even those comments though were consoling. She knew that while there was underlying truth in his taunts, his goal had been to keep her mind on easier, happier things and away from the terror that had been inflicted on her flesh over a year ago. The old Draco Malfoy wouldn't have cared if she was crying in her bed, having nightmares, let alone come to check on her. This man, this wizard in her bed, was altered. He had grown beyond the scared bully she had been confronted with years before. She finished dressing and exited the bathroom.

"Morning," he greeted her, laying half-covered in her bed. He had his head propped up with one arm, the other playing with the edge of his boxers.

"You look like you belong on the front of PlayWitch," she commented, quickly turning to her wardrobe to shield her face. She began rummaging around searching for her tie.

"And how does the Head Girl know what PlayWitch looks like, might I ask?"

"Contrary to what people think about me, Malfoy, I do not only ready for academic purposes." She found her tie, straightening up so she could use the mirror to put it on. "I also read for pleasure."

"Really?" His velvety voice purred from directly behind her. She jumped slightly, her breath hitching in her throat. "I thought you weren't afraid of me, Granger?"

"I-I'm not."

"Allow me." He took the tie out of her hands. He stepped closer, as he looped it around her neck, fastening it in its proper place. "There. All ready for the day."

"Thank you."

"Hmm," he ran a single finger down her cheek. "See you at breakfast."

He leaned forward, planting a kiss at the edge of her mouth. Hermione watched him saunter out of her room. Her body was still buzzing with electricity. It erupted across her flesh, like flames licking at the starter wood chips for a bonfire. She couldn't deny her attraction to Malfoy had been growing. Until the library, she hadn't been sure he felt the same.

She was conflicted. Though her relationship with Ron had been deteriorating before she had returned to Hogwarts, she felt guilty. Her attraction to Ron had grown over the years, mostly due to their constant presence in each other's lives. What she was experiencing now was different. It was hard to believe. She felt as if the last two weeks had been nothing but painful longing for her relationship with Draco and guilt over the longing for that relationship. It was a wonder she could still feel guilty. Hermione had spent time with Malfoy, but it was a matter of months versus a matter of years and her feelings for him felt stronger somehow, as if they had been building for longer and were now threatening to overthrow all other sensible thought in her mind.

Sensible or not, he did have a hold on her. Asking to be friends was when the door had opened to a greater possibility. _This is crazy_ , she thought, as she put her Mary Janes on. _There's no future for us._ Despite her belief in Kingsley's campaign platform, she knew the entire Wizarding World would not approve of a Pureblood and Muggleborn relationship. If that wasn't enough of a deterrent, there was also the issue of Malfoy's parents. She could only imagine how Lucius Malfoy would react. His son, a DeathEater and a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, involved with a Muggle-born witch and a Gryffindor no less. He might have a stroke at the very thought of it. Narcissa Malfoy was a tricky one. After Harry had shared with Hermione what Narcissa had done, the young witch was unsure how the mother would react.

And how would her own family react? Granted, her parents were not around to pass judement, but she had her self-made family: Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Ron was Ron. He would overreact. It was his nature. His overreaction was certain to spur other reactions, namely Mrs. Weasley. Harry was hard to determine how he would handle the news. He had an open mind regarding who people were versus what they were. Andromeda Tonks had been part of that change. She may looked like her murderous sister, but she was one of the most caring and kind-hearted witches they had ever met. Considering his past history with Draco though, Harry would be a hard sell. Hermione thought Ginny was the best place to start.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to update her best friend over breakfast.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was a struggle to write. I've rewritten it about three times now. And I'm not 100% pleased with it, but I wanted to post it and move forward with the story. In other news, I have to give a shout-out to lasvegasskye for her awesome new Instagram: dramioneismyotp. She has done dramione edits for her stories and is now doing edits for the posted chapters of "Then & Now." Check it out!

 **amy816** \- Thanks, Amy. I think it would be interesting if J.K. ever wrote the books from the other character's perspectives. We only see the story through Harry's eyes. There is so much left unsaid or that he was unaware of at times.  
 **Rayah19** -I appreciate your feedback on how I wrote Draco. I found a bit of myself in him with his struggles...not that I ever attempted to kill my headmaster or anything...metaphorically.  
 **AsMomma** -Thank you for the review. I enjoyed writing the last chapter far more than I thought I would. This one was far more challenging.  
 **ZoeyOlivia** \- There had to be angst. It couldn't be too easy for them.  
 **caprubia** \- I used to have my own mental image of all the characters but now I've seen the movie versions so often I can't help it.  
 **priestessofeternity** \- This is only Part 1 of the story. Part 2 "Now" will be about what happens after "19 Years Later" from the books.  
 **stacyyyy** \- They will be together soon. I promise.  
 **pgoodrichboggs** \- Well we all know that Rita Skeeter is actually J.K. Rowling...kidding, kidding. I saw a meme about that somewhere.  
 **Hedigisalive** \- Glad you feel it is authentic. I am trying to keep them in character. **  
lasvegasskye** \- Thank you for your lovely edits! I really love the pictures you've been using and which quotes you've been pulling.  
 **Sage McMae** \- I would like to get rid of Rita, but I need to keep her around for a bit longer...mwahhahahaha!  
 **Crayola91** \- Agreed. I'm all about Dramione...not Harmione or Romione.  
 **remythehuman** \- I'm not a Ron fan either. I don't understand Romione at all, but to each their own. I don't hate on other people's ships.  
 **AnnaOxford** \- Thank you. Strange as it is, it was easier for me to write out Draco than it was for me to write out Hermione on the last chapter.


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